Captive
by Dark Windsong
Summary: Ch34 UP! COMPLETE! Legolas is captured by Uruks and gravely injured, and it's up to Aragorn to save him. ANGST! NO SLASH
1. No Luck

**Disclaimer: If you have doubts as to who owns the characters, locations etc. in this story, go check the first publish date of The Lord of The Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien (1954), then compare it to the publish date of this story, Captive by Dark Windsong (2005). It will very quickly become obvious which one of us used the characters, places names etc. first. **

Chapter One

Legolas woke before the Sun. He yawned, stretched and got up. The Elf ate and packed up his belongings. He loaded them, all except for his bow and arrows and elegant pair of White Knives, onto his white stallion, Nimros, whose name in the Elven tongue meant White Foam. He rode with neither saddle nor bridle, the bond between Elf and Horse was so strong that Legolas trusted Nimros with his life. For the journey he had fitted a simple leather harness to the horse, which enabled him to strap his pack and bedroll on. He strapped his weapons onto his back, where he could easily reach them. As he did so, he was reminded with a horrible sinking feeling why he was so far from home. He had just passed Lórien, the Golden Wood, yesterday, but he had skirted it to avoid detection. He was not supposed to be away from home.

Legolas had snuck out of the palace in the dead of night three nights ago without his father's consent after a host of Moria Goblins had attacked his home in an attempt on King Thranduil's life. Legolas hadn't seen the entire fight, but in the end, the Goblins had been unsuccessful, and had instead taken one of his fellow Elves captive. King Thranduil had refused to tell his son who it was that had been taken, and had told him that it was no use risking his life by attempting to rescue the Elf – the Goblins would had have killed him long ago.

Defiant, and refusing to believe his father's words, the Prince of Mirkwood had cleverly drugged the palace guards and set off on Nimros at midnight. He was now camped on the borders of Lórien.

From the tracks Legolas had found, he guessed that the Goblins were heading for Dimrill Dale, the back entrance to Moria. They were probably planning to retreat back into the depths of the mines. And Legolas knew another thing: their captive was alive – he had discovered Elven footprints among the Goblin ones. He must stop them! He could see it now: he, Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood, would free the captive and bring him home. Yes, he'd follow them into Moria if that's what it took!

Legolas leapt nimbly onto his horse and surveyed the landscape. No Goblins. The Elf sighed. The creatures had a good headstart – they had traveled fast in the one day that he had spent planning his mission. Even his eyes could not pick them up, although it was not yet dawn. Hopefully he would have better luck later. Legolas nudged Nimros with his heels and settled into the gentle rocking chair motion of the stallion's canter. The horse's gait was such that he seemed to effortlessly float across the ground, and Legolas found himself releasing the stallion's long mane – it was so easy to keep his balance that he need not hold on. He trusted the horse not to stumble, and so focused his attention on searching for the Goblins.

Nimros whinnied joyously, but Legolas silenced him.

"Baw, Nimros." He shook his head, though the horse could not see his gesture. The noise could attract unfriendly beings. In response, the white stallion lowered his head submissively. "Hannon lê, roch." The Elf scratched his horse's neck affectionately.

Once it was fully light, Legolas slowed Nimros to a trot, so that he might more easily pick up any signs that the Goblins may have left behind. It wasn't long before he found some – deep scuff marks, recently upturned rocks, the remnants of a campfire behind a clump of boulders and…blood. Mercifully, it was not red, but black – Goblin blood. The creatures were forever squabbling. There wasn't much of it, and no dead bodies were to be seen, so the fight could not have been too serious. Pity. It could have been a few less Goblins to worry about.

"Daro, Nimros." Legolas dismounted to closer examine the scene. Something caught his eye. It was an Elven brooch, half trodden into the dust. The Elf picked it up. It was made of a piece of moonstone, carefully shaped into the likeliness of a leaf (if it hadn't been white, Legolas could have sworn it was real – the Elven craftsmen were that skilled), and set in an exquisite Mithril silver base. A valuable item. Legolas rubbed away the dirt from its surface and stowed it in his quiver.

The Elf spent some time scanning the trampled ground and then sighed and mounted Nimros.

"Noro lim." The signs were old, which meant that the Goblins were far ahead of him. He had to catch them somehow. They didn't like light – he had that advantage over them. Ages spent in the labyrinths of Moria had made the Goblins eyes large to enable them to see in near total darkness, but they were ill – adapted to the light of day. They preferred to travel under cover of darkness. Legolas was perfectly happy to hunt them either way, come rain or shine, and Nimros, like all Elven horses, was sure – footed in even the darkest of nights.

When it was fully light, Legolas urged Nimros up a small hill in the hope of spying the Goblins, but he was disappointed. The land was deserted. The white Elf – horse snorted and cantered down the hill. Legolas and Nimros pressed on.

TBC.


	2. An Unexpected Meeting

Chapter Two

The day passed without any sight of the Goblins. The tracks still suggested that the creatures were making for Dimrill Dale. Then, the ground had become hard, and the prints had disappeared, and Legolas had had to rely on smaller, less obvious signs to track his quarry, like an upturned pebble or a broken plant leaf.

He was at present camped beside a small clump of trees (he had checked it thoroughly first, to make sure that there were no Goblins camped in it). Now, Legolas sat by the campfire, listening to the chirping of the crickets and watching a pheasant roast on a spit over the flames.

CRACK! _What was _that? In one movement, Legolas rose and picked up his two White Knives from where they lay beside him. The noise had come from the trees. Slowly, stealthily, the Elf went to investigate. As he entered the small forest, his keen senses picked up the sound of breathing. Close. Two sets. One was definitely a beast. A beast and its rider. It could be only one thing – the beast: a Warg, and the rider: its master. Legolas couldn't see them, though he could see perfectly well in the dark – they were concealed behind a bushy thicket. The Elf made an estimate of where exactly his enemy was and flung his knives with lightning speed. There were two thumps, a high pitched neigh and a string of furious curses.

_What in Middle Earth?_ Legolas cautiously went around the thicket. The Elf gasped and then began to laugh. Aragorn, pinned to a tree by his cloak, was trying to calm his terrified stallion, Roheryn, given to him by the Lady Arwen. Luckily Legolas had missed the Ranger's horse.

Catching sight of the Elf, Aragorn looked first surprised, and then angry, as he freed himself and handed back the two long White Knives.

"I do believe these are yours. Legolas! What were you playing at?" he demanded.

"I thought you were a Warg – Rider," Legolas muttered, and dug in the leaf-litter with his boot. Suddenly his story sounded very silly.

"_Warg – Rider_!" Aragorn snorted, "You nearly killed both Roheryn and myself! What do you have to say to that?" He poked the Elf in the chest.

"Sorry," Legolas muttered. The Ranger had good cause to be angry with him. "But what are you doing creeping about in the dark? You snapped a twig. You're not usually that clumsy. I could only hear you – you were behind that thicket and, as I happen to be tracking a party of Moria Goblins, I just assumed you were a Warg – Rider. I'm so glad I was wrong…" Legolas gave Aragorn a lopsided grin.

"Humph!"

"Well, it's really good to see you!" Legolas decided to change the subject.

"And you, my friend!" The two embraced; Aragorn seemed to have forgiven the Elf. "I saw your campfire," the Ranger explained, answering Legolas's previous question, "and decided to investigate. You've made a nice hole in my cloak," he added, sticking his fingers through it.

"Never mind the hole, Aragorn!" Legolas laughed, "There could have been far worse consequences! A hole can be fixed."

"I suppose you're right."

"Why not have something to eat? Legolas asked, "I happen to have a pheasant roasting on the fire at this very moment, and if I don't get back soon, I fear it will be burned."

"Yes please," said Aragorn hungrily, and the three of them, the Ranger leading Roheryn, walked out of the tiny wood and to the campfire.

Aragorn untacked and picketed Roheryn beside Nimros. The white Elf – horse had been tied with a simple halter and line made from _hithlain_ rope. He raised his head briefly and whickered a greeting before going back to his grazing. Roheryn answered him and then lowered his head to eat. Legolas and Aragorn sat down beside the fire, the Ranger with his pack and bedroll. Aragorn opened his pack and removed a small leather pouch containing a needle and a spool of thread. He began to mend the hole in his cloak. Legolas shook his head and smiled to himself, although no doubt he would have been quick to do the same thing should the torn cloak had been _his_.

"Pheasant's done." Legolas took it off the fire and they ate.

"So tell me," Aragorn said between bites, "why are you after these Goblins?"

Legolas related the tale. When the Elf was finished telling it, Aragorn grunted.

"Well, you can't do it alone. It was rather foolish to set off by yourself, but it's too late now. I, at least, am with you every step of the way. Anyway," he added "hunting the creatures makes for good sport."

"Aye! Thank you Aragorn. Your company – and help, of course – is gladly accepted. We continue the mission at dawn. I only hope we're not too late." His face was grim in the flickering light of the fire, which crackled and snapped and sent orange sparks shooting up into the air.

Aragorn picked up his pack and bedroll and rose. He put them down a good distance from the fire and unrolled the bedroll to reveal a blanket stored within. The Ranger soon bade the Elf goodnight. Legolas returned the courtesy. Aragorn went to bed, leaving his friend sitting alone by the fire, staring into the starry night, his arms around his legs, chin resting on his bent knees.

TBC.


	3. Hunt

Chapter Three

"Come _on_, Aragorn! Get up!"

"Mmff…Gerroff…" Aragorn turned over, halfway between sleeping and waking.

"Get _up_!" It was Legolas, and of course, it was still pitch black. The birds had not even started to sing yet.

The Elf gave the Ranger's shoulders a gentle shake.

"Go'way," Aragorn muttered, swatted at the Elf's hands, and went back to sleep.

"We've got Goblins to hunt!" Legolas was exasperated. He shook Aragorn a little harder, underestimated his own strength, and sent the Ranger rolling off his bedroll. "Whoops. Get _up_!"

"I'm up, I'm UP!" Aragorn growled. Legolas had succeeded. The Ranger got to his feet and brushed dry grass and prickles off himself. "What the hell was the meaning of that?" he demanded.

"An accident, but really, it's late."

"What? Late in the bloody night, maybe?" Aragorn groaned, "It's not even light yet, for the Valar's sake!" The Ranger was clearly in a rather bad mood.

"Not a morning person, Aragorn?" asked Legolas politely.

"Bloody hell, no! How long have you been up?"

"Oh, nearly an hour now. I've already had breakfast. I' thought I'd let you sleep a little." he winked at Aragorn, which did nothing to improve the Ranger's mood.

"Oh, be quiet! Elves can sleep on their feet or riding a horse, whatever. They sleep with their eyes open! We humans can't do that! We sleep lying down, with our eyes very firmly _shut_, thank-you-very-much!"

"Here." Legolas threw the Ranger's bedroll and blanket, neatly rolled up, at him. "Stop procrastinating!"

"_Me_? _Procrastinating_?"

"Well hurry up then, whatever you're doing, otherwise I don't care whether you're "with me every step of the way" or not – I'm going without you!"

Aragorn rolled his eyes and picked up his pack and bedding.

"You wouldn't dare!" He headed for the horses, and found both fully readied – all that remained was to untie them.

Roheryn eagerly greeted his master as the Ranger tied the pack and bedroll to the saddle. Legolas approached the horses, removed Nimros's halter, stowed it in his pack, and vaulted easily onto the stallion's back. Aragorn untied Roheryn and mounted with more care, as he had iron stirrups to aid him. The Elf also had simple straps on Nimros's harness that resembled stirrups, but he chose not to use them, preferring to ride with his long legs hanging loose down the horse's sides.

Legolas squeezed Nimros into a trot.

"Noro lim." To Aragorn, he said, "Let us go now – at last!" and gave the Ranger a _look_, "We have a good chance of catching the Goblins. They will still be out now."

"Aye," Aragorn agreed, and nudged his stallion with his heels, "Onwards, Roheryn."

Suddenly Legolas grinned, and Nimros seemed to sense his rider's joy, for he broke into a canter, and then a gallop, Roheryn hot on his heels. Both horses tossed their heads and neighed excitedly, their hooves pounding, tails held high, nostrils dilated, and eyes bright.

"Faroth Glamhoth!" Legolas cried. Exhilaration coursed through his veins. "Noro lim, Nimros! Noro lim!"

Aragorn pulled Roheryn back slightly, wishing to save the horse's energy. Legolas glanced back at him.

"Khil, Estel! Noro lim!" he encouraged.

Roheryn took matters into his own hands – if his master wouldn't, then _he_ would! The stallion suddenly tore the reins from the unsuspecting Ranger's fingers, threw his head in the air, and raced to catch the white cloud – tail in front of him.

"Faroth Glamhoth!" Aragorn repeated, "YEEEAAARGH!"

TBC.

_Author's Note: I thought I'd add some comedy to this chapter. Hope it was funny! I'm not planning on it again though. I wasn't sure whether to call the chapter Rise and Shine (Poor Aragorn!) or Hunt. I settled on Hunt though, as this is not really meant to be comedy. For those of you out there who don't speak Elvish, "Faroth Glamhoth" means "Hunt the Orcs" (or Goblins in this case), and "Khil" means "Follow"._

– _Windsong of Darkness – _

_P.S. Thank you for the good reviews!_


	4. A Battle And A Loss

Chapter Four

Legolas pulled Nimros up so suddenly that Aragorn almost went into the back of him. The Sun's first pale rays were just beginning to show over the peaks of the Misty Mountains on the horizon.

"What is it?" the Ranger asked quickly. Legolas was focused intently on something in the distance, but, try as he might, Aragorn simply couldn't see it. He just didn't have the eyes of an Elf.

Legolas tore his gaze away from whatever had caught his attention, and without any aids, using some form of telepathy, spurred Nimros into a gallop.

"Yrch! I've found them! Hurry!"

"Yeah!" Aragorn cheered and slapped the reins on Roheryn's neck. The graceful Elven horse surged forward gracefully, muscles rippling under his glossy coat.

Soon, Aragorn was able to see the Goblins for himself. There were about three score of the beasts, and they were moving fast.

"Aragorn!" Legolas cried in dismay and halted, "He's not with them! Woe is this day! What has happened?"

The Ranger pulled up and squinted at the Goblins. "Perhaps they sent some of their number ahead with the captive?" he suggested hopefully.

"Perhaps. I certainly hope so! Let's kill these ones anyway, to show that we mean business! They can't see us yet, with their poor eyes, so once I get, say, within…half a mile of them, I'm going on foot. I don't want to risk Nimros."

"Okay!" Aragorn grinned and touched the pommel of his sword before galloping on.

A few minutes later, the two stallions neighed in greeting as a herd of wild horses scattered as they passed.

"Right. I'm getting off!" Legolas halted and jumped off Nimros's back. The white stallion pranced off and stood under the shade of a large tree. Legolas and Aragorn moved towards the Goblins, bows strung and at the ready.

Unfortunately, due to Roheryn and Nimros's noise, the Goblins had sighted the animals and their riders. They turned as one and charged towards the four, bellowing.

Legolas stopped beside a small tree and waited calmly for them to come into range, two arrows nocked in his bow; bowstring drawn so far back that his arm shook. Once the Goblins were within about two hundred and fifty yards of the Elf, Legolas released his bowstring with deadly effect. Two Goblins were felled – one took the shaft through the gut and the other took it through the throat. Legolas fitted another two arrows to the string.

Aragorn's bow was much smaller – a hunting bow – so the Ranger had to wait until the Goblins were at least seventy five yards away, but nevertheless, he still managed to shoot one down before slinging his bow over his back, drawing his sword, and galloping into their midst, Roheryn ploughing three down as they went.

Legolas retreated behind the tree and continued his deadly rain of arrows. Soon, though, there wasn't room to shoot a bow, and so the Elf slung it over his back and leaped into the fray, wielding his two White Knives. Black blood covered the ground as Goblins fell like ninepins all around him.

Suddenly, Legolas heard the scream of a horse in pain. Roheryn must have been injured. He hoped the horse was alright, for though he did not own the beast, the Elf was fond of him. Legolas effortlessly beheaded a Goblin. The severed head took a few moments to detach itself from the creature's neck, spraying blood in all directions, and finally tumbling to the ground. The lifeless body flopped over into the dirt. Legolas managed to avoid most of the bloodspray. The Elf looked about, and was relieved to see that apart from a few minor cuts, Roheryn seemed fine. Aragorn, too, looked good, and seemed to be having a lot of success with his sword.

Legolas quickly stuck both knives through a Goblin's middle. He pulled them sideways and out, and the beast crumpled to the ground, its innards spilling out into the dust. The creature's weapon, a short bow, slid across the ground. It was abruptly snapped in two when Roheryn galloped past and stepped on it. Legolas chopped both hands off a Goblin that had been trying to attack him. It howled in agony. The Elf put an end to its suffering by thrusting a knife through its black heart. He gave one of the still twitching hands a kick, sending it spinning through the air, and landing with a _slap_ in the face of a Goblin which was abruptly decapitated as Legolas moved in on it.

Suddenly the Elf stopped fighting. Something had caught his eye. Something horrible. Something white. Lying on the ground by the big tree. No! His heart in his mouth, Legolas turned and sprinted towards Nimros, but as he was passing the small tree, an arrow went right through his left shoulder and pinned him to the trunk. There were only two Goblins left, and one of them just happened to be an archer.

The Elf gave an angry snarl and tried to yank the arrow out of himself, but released it with a cry. Barbed. Legolas cursed and snapped off the fletchings. He put his right arm behind his back and dislodged the arrowtip from the tree bark. He grasped the tip, intending to pull the arrow from the opposite way that the barbs were facing. It should come out without too much trouble. Legolas pulled, but again had to release the arrow. It was stuck fast, and every time he pulled, he could feel the barbs tearing at flesh and bone. He winced. He'd get Aragorn's help later – the Ranger was a skilled healer – but right now, he had to get to Nimros.

Leaving the last two Goblins for Aragorn, Legolas raced to his horse's side. Immediately, his heart sank. The beautiful white stallion was dying. He had an arrow embedded deep in his throat. Desperately, though inwardly he knew it was no use, Legolas tried to pull the arrow out. Nimros struggled convulsively and screamed in pain, and the Elf realized with an overwhelming sense of guilt that it had been his own horse, not Roheryn, that he had heard earlier. Oh! It was all his stupid fault that Nimros was going to die!

The arrow wouldn't come out – it was obviously barbed, like the one that was currently through his shoulder. The white horse suddenly stopped struggling and laid down his head in Legolas's lap.

"No, Nimros! Don't go!" Hot tears were falling steadily down the Elf's face as he watched his beloved friend die. He leant over and undid the horse's light tack, which he threw roughly aside. He stroked Nimros's head and gazed into the horse's warm, liquid brown eyes, which were so rapidly clouding as death came closer and closer. In them, Legolas saw pain, sadness, joy, hope, and love, such love. Then they went blank, and the great white Elven horse, Nimros, was no more.

Legolas gave a howl of fury and anguish. Then he gently closed Nimros's eyes, buried his face in his dead horse's mane, put his arms around the animal's neck, and wept. And that was how Aragorn found him, when he came riding up, triumphant, having killed the last of the Goblins.


	5. Injury

_A/N: I have decided that it is not necessary to capitalize the words "elf", and "goblin". Sorry if I haven't updated in a while! I will try to do it more often ( every 3 days)! Please don't give up on me if it happens again, though! _

Chapter Five

"Legolas! Are you alright?" Aragorn reined in his horse sharply, sheathed his blade, and dismounted, wincing slightly as he put weight on his right foot. The first thing the Ranger had noticed upon seeing the elf was the arrow sticking through his shoulder.

oXo

Legolas wasn't even feeling the pain of the shot – he was feeling the intense heartache of losing a loved one (to Legolas the horse had been more than a mere steed, he felt like family) – worse than any mortal wound. He raised a tear-stained face and shook his head in response to Aragorn's question. The Ranger understood. He looped Roheryn's reins around his elbow and knelt beside his friend. Aragorn gently put his arm around the elf's shoulders, careful to avoid the injury.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Legolas sniffed and began to comb Nimros's silky mane with his fingers. Then he grasped the arrow and gave a violent tug. It came free with a horrible sucking sound, tearing out chunks of flesh as it came, for it had sharp barbs on its sides facing both towards the fletchings and the arrowtip, which also sported small hooks.

oXo

Aragorn's eyes widened – he had never in all his life seen an arrow like it. Legolas, however, didn't seem to care. He snapped the shaft furiously and dropped it. Then he once again buried his face in the white stallion's mane. He couldn't believe he had lost his friend. He just couldn't imagine life without him. No more friendly face peeping over the stable door, eager to welcome him in, no more rides on that pure white back, never again would the sound of those hooves be heard in the courtyards, the forest….never again would that graceful white cloud tail be held high again or be swished to shoo away a pesky fly, never again would Nimros toss his elegant dished head, arch his graceful neck, never stamp his feet again, he would never snort, whinny, whicker, or neigh again…never get his life back! Never! Legolas was suddenly overcome by grief.

oXo

Aragorn reached over and picked up the two pieces of the arrow and then turned away – he had never seen Legolas show emotion like this before. The Ranger examined the arrow. _Interesting_, he thought to himself, _Very interesting. Clever. Barbed both ways! Must have taken a considerable amount of force to get this thing into the poor horse. _He noticed that there was a white ring painted around the shaft, just below the fletchings. The Ranger supposed it was an owner's mark. There were remnants of a black substance on the head and side barbs. _It must be poison_, Aragorn concluded. The Ranger gasped as he looked at the arrow in Legolas's shoulder – weren't those traces of white near the splintered top? Yes, they were! That meant that the arrow had most –likely belonged to the same Goblin that had put that fatal arrow through Nimros's throat, and that shaft was double-barbed and poisoned! Aragorn swore under his breath.

"Legolas! We've got to get that out!"

"Not…not now, Aragorn! Leave me to my lamentations!"

"I understand your sorrow, but listen to me! That wound cannot go unattended to! I'm not sure, but I think that arrow is poisoned!"

oXo

Legolas kissed Nimros's cold nose, gently lifted the horse's head off his lap with his right hand, and very slowly, fighting for control of his emotions, stood up. No sooner had he done this, when he stumbled for no apparent reason and nearly fell, confirming Aragorn's suspicions about the arrow being poisoned. The Ranger was up in an instant. He gently steadied Legolas, who was having trouble keeping his usually faultless balance.

"Easy."

Legolas said nothing, so the Ranger took him by the right arm. "Let's get away from the battlefield, okay?"

Reluctantly, the elf nodded. He glanced back at Nimros's still form and then hastily looked away again, fresh tears springing to his eyes.

oXo

Aragorn steered Legolas toward the shade of another large tree, limping slightly, and tethered Roheryn to a root, taking his pack down from the horse's saddle as he did so. Ranger and elf sat down, and Aragorn helped Legolas to remove his quiver, with the two White Knives (which the elf had clumsily sheathed before going to Nimros) and bow, and his cloak.

"Alright, now this arrow has to come out."

"Aye," Legolas nodded, "Go ahead. I couldn't pull it – you might have better luck. It's barbed."

"Yes," Aragorn grimaced, "it's barbed, and the barbs are facing toward both ends. It's poisoned too, although I think I told you that."

"How do you---?"

"It's got a white mark below where the fletchings used to be, same as the one that killed Nimros, and that one was poisoned and double barbed."

"Oh…" said Legolas, and then he seemed suddenly to sense the urgency of the situation. "Do it! Get it out!"

oXo

"Sit forward and _relax_," Aragorn instructed, "Try to go limp."

Legolas did as he'd been asked, and Aragorn wrapped his hand in his cloak so as to protect it and took hold of the barbed arrowhead. "Maybe the rest of it's not barbed – the head certainly is – I'll have a go at pulling it before I try anything drastic." The Ranger gave the shaft a tug. Legolas took in his breath sharply.

"It's no use – that thing's stuck," he said miserably.

"I'm afraid so." Aragorn examined the tip and then felt gently around the Elf's shoulder, his skilled fingers missing nothing, even through Legolas's clothing. "I think," he said, "that that arrow is wedged between your two shoulder bones. Getting it out isn't going to be easy."

"How are you going to do it?"

"I'll have to cut it out."

oXo

Quickly, Aragorn gathered some sticks and kindled a fire. When he had a small blaze going, he took out his small utility knife and passed it through the flames to sterilize it. The Ranger waited for the blade to cool and then he cut away the fabric of Legolas's tunic and shirt from around the arrow to allow him to work.

"Do you want something to dull the pain?" he asked. Legolas shook his head.

"If what you mean is "do you want some alcohol to dull the pain?" then the answer is no, and it will always be no."

"Oh, alright then. I'm going to start now. Whatever you do, don't jerk – this knife is incredibly sharp – if it slips it could do serious harm." Carefully, Aragorn inserted the knife point into the wound in Legolas's shoulder. The elf gasped – it felt as if the Ranger had just stuck a red hot poker into him, although the blade was quite cool. Aragorn began to cut at the flesh to widen the wound – it was the only way that he'd be able to get the shaft out, short of ripping out the arrow and doing worse harm.

oXo

"Aargh!" Legolas stuffed his fist into his mouth. He bit down hard and tasted blood.

"I'm sorry, but I've got to do it," Aragorn apologized. Legolas nodded.

oXo

A few minutes later, Aragorn stopped cutting and took hold of the arrowtip. The wound was large now, and some of the barbs could now be clearly seen. Strangely though, it wasn't bleeding much. Aragorn guessed that the arrow was plugging the hole. The Ranger gave the shaft an experimental twist, but it wouldn't budge. He only succeeded in extracting an agonized yelp from Legolas. The shout came out somewhat muffled, as the elf was sucking on his bruised and bleeding knuckles.

oXo

"No, I'll have to work on this some more." Aragorn reinserted the knife. He worked slowly – to accidentally sever an artery would mean almost certain death for Legolas. Presently, he said, "This is all I can do – I've hit bone on both sides, and the one is shattered and the other cracked." Legolas merely grunted in reply – his head was swimming, and he felt both hot and cold simultaneously.

oXo

With the utmost care, Aragorn worked around the arrow, separating barbs from flesh. When he had done all that he could, the Ranger took the point and pulled. It worked – thanks to Aragorn's skill, the arrow came out smoothly, and the Ranger put it aside and pressed his hand over the gaping hole as blood began to pour unchecked.

oXo

When the flow didn't show any signs of slowing after ten minutes, Aragorn took his hand away and quickly removed Legolas's tunic and shirt, pulled out a roll of bandages from his pack, along with the small leather pouch containing the needle and thread. He pressed his hand to the wound again and held the needle in the fire. Legolas watched him.

"You going to stitch it?"

Aragorn nodded. "Aye, I'll have to. That is no minor wound." He removed his blood – soaked hand from the Elf's shoulder so that he could thread the needle. Then he carefully stitched up the bloody hole. The Ranger reached into his pack again and brought out a bottle filled with a pale green liquid. He folded a length of bandage into a large square pad, big enough to cover the wound, and put a few drops of the liquid onto the bandage. Then he bandaged the medicated dressing onto Legolas's shoulder.

"Done," Aragorn declared, as he slipped Legolas's tunic and shirt back over the elf's head.

oXo

Legolas hauled himself to his feet, but collapsed onto his side – fortunately it was his right – his legs felt like jelly. He pushed himself upright, into a sitting position, wincing. Aragorn faced him. "Legolas!" he exclaimed, worried, "You're white as a ghost! You're sweating, too. Are you feeling okay, besides the pain?"

"Uh…?" The elf wiped the perspiration beads from his forehead with a trembling hand. "Oh, yes…yes, I'm fine." He didn't look it, though.

Aragorn frowned. "Well, you look as if you've got a temperature." The Ranger reached out and felt Legolas's forehead before the elf could duck. "Yes, you have." The Ranger got up and limped to fetch his waterskin from Roheryn's saddle. He handed it to Legolas. "Here, have something to drink." The elf sipped the water gratefully, realizing just how thirsty he was. Aragorn took some herbs from his healer's bag and a silver cup from his pack. He broke up the herbs and sprinkled them into the cup. "I'm sorry, but I'll need that waterskin back for a bit."

Legolas passed it to him. Aragorn poured some water into the cup and pushed it up to the fire to heat. When the water had boiled, he took a small silver spoon from his pack and stirred up the infusion. Once it had cooled, he handed it to Legolas. "Here, drink this," he said, "It will bring your temperature down, and will help keep the effects of the poison at bay."

oXo

The elf took a cautious sip of the medicine, pulled a face, and downed it in a single gulp. "_Uh_! That was bitter!"

"Sorry about that." Aragorn passed him the waterskin. "It will do you good though."

"It'd better!" Legolas scowled, but then he eyed Aragorn with concern. "Estel?" he asked, using Aragorn's elvish name, "Have you hurt your foot? You walk with a limp."

"Oh, I think my toe may be broken – my foot got hit with the flat of a blade during the fight – it's nothing serious though, and, err, it doesn't hurt," the Ranger lied. Legolas didn't buy it.

"Maybe so," he played along, "but I think you should do something about it, regardless. Walking on it without first bandaging it will make it worse."

"Oh, alright." Aragorn shrugged and gave in. He pulled off his boot, wincing as he did so.

"Ouch," said Legolas, "That's nasty." The Ranger's foot was swollen and bruised from where the sword had hit him. His big toe was twisted to the side. "I definitely think you should bandage that at the very least," the elf suggested.

"I think so, too." Aragorn wrapped a length of bandage tightly around his toes and pulled his boot back on. He flexed his foot. "Good as new!"

oXo

"We've got to resume our mission," Aragorn said to Legolas, "Can you manage? You've lost a lot of blood, and the wound is poisoned, though the herbs should take care of it for a while, and then I'll just give you the next dose."

Legolas nodded slowly, and then he said, "Nimros."

"Yes," said Aragorn thoughtfully, "It is not right to leave the body for the crows. We have not the time to dig a grave, either…We will have to burn it," he said, "With your permission, of course," the Ranger added.

Legolas nodded reluctantly – he could see no other option. "Aye," he sighed.

oXo

"Alright then," said Aragorn briskly. He stood up and began to gather anything that would burn. Legolas got up too and leaned against a tree, waiting for his head to clear. When it did, he made an attempt to single – handedly gather sticks, though it was agony. It felt only right that he should do this for his horse; his friend.

oXo

Later, Legolas and Aragorn went to Nimros's body, dragged it to a large sandy area where the fire would not spread, and arranged their piles of fuel beside the still form. Legolas's was considerably smaller. Aragorn had tried to convince the elf to sit down, but Legolas had insisted, and in the end, Aragorn had given up.

oXo

Legolas knelt by his horse's head.

"Your knife, please, Estel." Aragorn gave it to him and went back to the fire, a stick in hand. The elf cut a chunk of the stallion's snowy mane and tied it at both ends to keep it from falling apart. He slipped it down one of the leather bracers he wore on his arms for protection when shooting his bow. He kissed the stallion's forehead, and taking advantage of the fact that Aragorn wasn't currently there to see him, he bowed his head and let the tears flow for a minute. Then he straightened up, his face hardened into a grim expression. He would have his vengeance, oh yes! He would kill those goblins, he swore it! Every. Last. One.

oXo

Silently, Aragorn walked up and held out the now flaming stick. Legolas took it and held it to one of the branches surrounding Nimros. It ignited, and the fire spread to the next stick, and then the next, and the next, until all the sticks were burning. Then there was a whooshing sound as the flames engulfed the body, and Legolas couldn't stop himself from giving an anguished cry. If he could have stopped those flames, he would have. Oh, he wanted to bury Nimros in the Palace gardens, with a headstone inscribed with beautiful elvish runes and flowers around his grave, red roses, his favourite (Thranduil had always been upset when the horse had gotten out and eaten his prized roses). It wasn't fair that his body should go this way! Of course, when he got back, Legolas would still put up a headstone, but it wouldn't be the same. The elf looked away – he couldn't bear to watch anymore. Would he ever see his beloved friend again? Where did horses go when they died? Was there some lush, green spring meadow somewhere, free from danger, where they ran wild? Only the Valar knew, and now Nimros did, too. Smoke enveloped Legolas, stinging his throat and making him cough as he inhaled it. It made his eyes water, too, and he was embarrassed when Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder, as the Ranger probably thought he was crying…again, but he wasn't! _No, not this time!_ Legolas assured himself, sniffing, but a tear rolled down his cheek, betraying him.

"Come," said Aragorn gently, "Let us go now. His body is gone, but his memory will always remain."

TBC

_A/N: Poor Nimros, even I feel a little bit sad for him (sniff)! Things get a bit better regarding horses, so stay tuned for my next chapter, which will be called…but that would be giving the entire thing away! The chapter name is sooo obvious and gives away too much of the content, so you'll have to wait and see!_

_-Windsong of Darkness-_


	6. Horse Whisperers

_A/N: If you like Merry and Pippin humour, then be sure to check out my story: "Two Hobbits, an Elf and Pink Hairspray"! I have just updated it, and it's really cute, even if I do say so myself. Well, on with chapter six! It's called "Horse Whisperers", and I bet you can guess what happens…oh, dammit. What's the point in reading it then? Because it's rather funny and cute. _

Chapter Six

"We need to do something about transportation for you," Aragorn said thoughtfully as he and Legolas stood under the big tree, Nimros's body burning nearby, "Once we rescue your friend –"

"Two things," Legolas interrupted wearily, looking up from braiding the section of Nimros's mane into a bracelet, "One, we might not be able to save him, Aragorn, and two," he added, annoyed, "I don't even know who the elf _is_!"

"Well, I was just trying to be optimistic," Aragorn muttered.

"Well, don't!" Legolas snapped, "I'm not in the mood for any optimism at present!"

Aragorn was silent for a few moments and then he said, "Well, back to the problem of –"

"What do you propose?"

"I'm not sure," Aragorn said slowly, but he sounded as if he had one of his crazy plans - a plan that had to be exercised with extreme care, and usually read "DANGER" all over it, "I'm not sure but we passed that herd of wild horses earlier, and –"

"I see them," Legolas interrupted, "and if what you plan to do is capture one, then I'm telling you now, it won't work! They are smart, Aragorn, not like the dumb beasts that men breed. Just imagine trying to catch Roheryn if he didn't want to be caught?"

The Ranger looked slightly amused at this, because if his elven horse decided for some reason to avoid capture one morning, and he wasn't tied, then there was absolutely no way, short of shooting him with a sleeping drug, that he'd be caught.

Legolas took his expression as a _yes_. "So now you have an idea of how difficult it will be to catch a wild horse?" he prompted.

Aragorn shook his head. "Just listen to me!" He held out his hand before continuing, to stop Legolas from interrupting again, as he could see that the elf was desperate to get something in. "You know that I am familiar with the Rohirric and Elven tongues. I think that I might be able to somewhat calm with my voice –"

"Sure – Estel, the Horse Tamer," Legolas had to interrupt, his voice laden with sarcasm. He went back to his braiding.

"Legolas…" Aragorn's tone was reproachful.

"Well," the elf continued, finishing the bracelet and slipping it onto his right wrist, "Just how do you plan on getting close enough to try your magic words?" Aragorn was stumped for a few moments. Legolas had a point. Seeing the look of puzzlement on the Ranger's face, the elf was triumphant. "Take it from me, Aragorn – it's a wild goose chase!"

"No it's not!" The Ranger's face suddenly lost its perplexed look, and the answer came to him, "I've got it! I've got it! Herbs!" Legolas looked blank. "Herbs, Legolas, herbs! I've a certain blend that they love! I keep it for Roheryn, as an occasional treat." Legolas sighed and shook his head. Whoever had deemed Rangers as 'strange' was right. At least, this one certainly was a bit…eccentric. No, correction – he was a raving lunatic! "_Herbs! Herbs, Legolas, herbs!"_

oXo

Aragorn saw Legolas's raised eyebrows and decided to explain.

"They're absolutely crazy about it. It has a calming effect too. It's almost soporific, the way it works. The herbs can also be smelled from a long distance, so they will hopefully smell the herbs before they see me. Anyway, like it or not, I'm going to try this idea, because while Roheryn could carry both you and I on his back with only minimal discomfort, I fear that he will not be able to bear a third rider. With three people, you need at least two horses."

"I think you may be right there, much as I'd hate to admit it." Legolas couldn't find a valid argument. "I suppose you can try your 'idea', harebrained as it is. Do not be frustrated when it does not work. I wish you luck, because you shall need it, I think. Oh, Estel," Legolas squinted into the distance, back the way they had come, "If luck favours you, be sure not to take that big red stallion or the dappled mare."

"Why?" asked the Ranger. The prospect of a fiery red horse sounded exiting.

"Must you always ask questions?" Legolas didn't much feel like discussing horses, "The chestnut is in charge of the herd, and I must warn you – he will be aggressive, so do not provoke him, and the mare is his partner. Anyway, she has a colt."

"Fine," Aragorn answered. He untied Roheryn and mounted.

"There's a very pretty palomino mare with a white star on her forehead," Legolas added, pointing, "She will do."

"I'll try." Aragorn nudged Roheryn with his heels and Legolas felt a pang of sadness as he watched the pair canter off, perfectly in unison with each other.

oXo

It wasn't long before Aragorn spotted the little band of horses, only about twenty strong, the palomino in their midst. Some were grooming each other, others browsing or grazing lazily, and others were just milling about. The red chestnut Legolas had mentioned watched his harem from atop a small hillock, occasionally lowering his head to snatch a mouthful of grass and swishing his tail to keep the flies from settling on his legs. His mare stood nearby, nursing a long legged chestnut colt that was an exact replica of its sire.

oXo

Roheryn pricked his ears at the sight of his own kind.

"Hush," said Aragorn, fearing that the horse would neigh and alert the wild herd to their presence, as they had so far remained undetected, "Easy." The Ranger dismounted and ground tied his horse. "Stay there, okay?" Roheryn put his head to one side as if trying to understand. He looked so comical that Aragorn had to smile. "Good boy." The Ranger petted the horse and took something from one of his saddlebags. He let Roheryn have a tiny taste of it, and then repeated "STAY." Roheryn blew through his nostrils and put out a hoof to take a step towards his master, but Aragorn took it and put it back on the ground. "No, Roheryn, I said 'stay'!" The horse sighed, squared himself up as if he had just come to a perfect halt, and lowered his head submissively. "There we go." Aragorn stroked him and then began to advance toward the herd, Roheryn watching him slyly all the while. The Ranger kept to the bushes and trees, anything that would conceal him. He rubbed his hands together, and the scent of herbs rose to his nostrils.

oXo

When Aragorn was roughly one hundred paces away from the herd, congratulating himself on getting so far without detection, he emerged from a thicket and suddenly heard a furious scream. Of course – the red stallion! Legolas had warned him that the horse would show aggression. But why now? The Ranger was using the herbs correctly to disguise his scent, so the stallion shouldn't be able to smell him at all. Suddenly, he heard thundering hoofbeats and turning saw the fiery horse charging towards him at full tilt, ears flat back against its skull, teeth bared and eyes rolling. Obviously, it could. Either that or it simply found the scent of the herbs infuriating. Aragorn sidestepped and felt the wind as the massive stallion went hurtling past him, unable to change direction.

oXoXoXo

Under the tree, Legolas watched the scene, tense as a bowstring. Aragorn was crazy, and if he wasn't careful, he might well get himself killed. He had left his sword behind, under the tree, so he had no way of protecting himself.

"Stupid," the elf muttered, and sat down. He felt a bit woozy still, and supposed the fever had not yet left him. Legolas winced and put his right hand up to his shoulder. It was hurting, and felt like it was beginning to swell – was it just his imagination or were the stitches pulling?

oXoXoXo

The horse skidded to a halt, his back legs coming right up between his front ones and off the ground, his hooves sending up a spray of small stones. The stallion turned and reared to show this strange creature his strength, his hooves flying. When the Ranger didn't even flinch, the horse dropped onto all fours again and prepared to charge once more. Aragorn 's only move was to slowly extend his right hand, holding out a large handful of herbs, relaxed despite the situation, his body language saying, 'I am not a threat. Do not fear me.' Still, the Ranger was ready to call Roheryn and escape should he have to.

oXo

Slowly, very slowly, the red horse extended its neck, still aggressive, and approached the Ranger. Then, just a few paces away, he stopped and began to breathe deeply, taking in the fragrant scent of the herbs. As the stallion breathed, his ears slowly came forward and his eyes lost their hostility.

"Stille nu faeste," Aragorn whispered, "Quiet now, steady." The stallion whickered and blew softly through his nostrils.

oXo

Aragorn waited a few minutes, and when the red horse showed no further signs of aggression, he cautiously reached out and tried to put his hand on the animal's neck. The stallion saw it coming and skittered backwards, flattening his ears, but this time in fear, not anger. The Ranger offered the herbs again.

"Steady." The horse moved forward once more, and with renewed confidence, put his muzzle right in Aragorn's cupped hands and snatched a mouthful of the herbs. The Ranger waited another few minutes and then tried again to touch the horse. The stallion squealed in surprise when the Ranger placed his hand on its neck, but made no move to run. "That's it, there…" Aragorn stroked its neck for a while.

oXoXoXo

Legolas peered into the distance. No, his eyes must be deceiving him! He blinked, but still the strange sight remained. Aragorn _petting_ the red stallion! The elf was amazed. He had never thought Aragorn's plan would be a success. If he hadn't just lost his horse, Legolas would have laughed at the very idea, but now, the Ranger was standing, stroking a wild red stallion that, only a short time ago, had been bent on killing him. Fancy that!

oXoXoXo

Deciding that he had sufficiently placated the big stallion, Aragorn turned his back on the big horse. It sauntered off, back to the herd. The Ranger headed for the palomino. Fortunately, she was browsing on a clump of bushes at the very edge of the herd. If he could just get close to the horse then the rest shouldn't be too hard…

oXo

Slowly, carefully, keeping his head down so as not to make eye contact with the mare should she look up, Aragorn crept forward, trying to ignore the pain in his foot. He must try not to look threatening or make any sudden movements, and to limp would be to blow his cover.

oXo

The golden horse raised her head, watching the strange creature that was slowly moving towards her. The mare pricked her ears and swished her tail, sniffing the air. The new animal didn't seem to be a threat, and there was a comforting smell about him. Herbs. The figure stopped. Most of the horses were watching him now, and, reassured by their leader's now relaxed behaviour, they began to cautiously approach him. Soon, the more confident ones, including the palomino, were just metres away. Aragorn spread the herbs into both hands and offered them out. The red stallion pushed bossily through his herd and put his muzzle in Aragorn's hands, taking a greedy mouthful of the tasty treat that the Ranger held. The Ranger smiled. Soon, he had five or six horses pushing and shoving, eager to have some for themselves. Aragorn was delighted to see that his target was among them. He closed his hands over the herbs, his fingers slightly open, so that the horses could still smell the treat, but not eat it. If his plan was to be a success, he would still need his secret weapon. The palomino boldly pushed at the Ranger's hand.

oXo

Exercising as much care as he had with the red stallion, Aragorn laid his hand softly on the mare's neck, but the horse didn't seem to mind. She only whickered and shoved his hand harder, nipping his fingers softly. Okay, so she had spirit, and didn't seem easily frightened. How would the horse handle being lead? Aragorn transferred the herbs into one hand and took a handful of her long mane, and holding his fist containing the treat in front of her muzzle, took a step forward.

oXo

The palomino hesitated and looked as if she were going to balk, but then sniffed and followed.

"Good!" Aragorn allowed her some of the herbs that she was so desperate to get hold of and led her forward some more. The wild horses began to follow, too.

oXoXoXo

Legolas had to admit that he had never seen anything like it. Not only had Aragorn succeeded in capturing a horse, but he had actually managed to get the palomino. He definitely had a way with animals, no doubt about it! Watching him, the elf had even forgotten about the intense throb in his shoulder.

oXoXoXo

As Aragorn approached Roheryn, leading the golden mare, the elven stallion bared his teeth at the many wild horses that were hypnotically trailing his master.

"Baw, Roheryn!" Aragorn scolded him. The stallion rolled his eyes fiercely, but at a further reprimanding word from the Ranger, he stood quietly, but still looking daggers at the other horses.

oXo

Aragorn stopped about five paces from Roheryn, and was greatly amused when the wild horses stopped with him, including the red stallion. Now for another test – would the mare tolerate a rope around her neck? Risking the horse running off, the Ranger let go of her mane and retrieved a length of _hithlain_ rope, soft and supple, from Roheryn's saddle and knotted it into a type of loop that could be pulled tight and then easily loosened again, so it would fit the mare's neck. He went back to the palomino, and when she rolled her eyes at him, he thought she wasn't going to let him touch her, and his time had been spent in vain. Quickly, he offered her the herbs. They had the desired effect, and the Ranger was able to take hold of the horse's mane again. Talking soothingly to the horse, he slipped the rope loop over her head. The mare shied back, but Aragorn let the rope that he held slide through his fingers so that she would not feel herself caught and panic.

"Faeste! Stille!" The Ranger petted her gently. "Easy!" The mare responded to Aragorn's voice by relaxing, and the Ranger tied one end of the rope to Roheryn's saddle, leaving it long so that if she panicked for some reason, she would not injure either herself or Roheryn. Aragorn fed her the last of the herbs and mounted his stallion.

oXo

There was no way that Aragorn was going to risk anything more than a trot back, and so he put his heels lightly to Roheryn's sides, asking for a mere walk. It was as if the Ranger had worked some elven magic upon the golden mare, for after hesitating slightly, she walked after them. Seeing this, Aragorn nudged Roheryn into a trot, and the palomino skipped daintily on. The other horses began to move away. The Ranger was relieved when the fiery stallion didn't get possessive over his mare – after all, she had just been stolen from him. He just trotted back to his hillock after giving the Ranger a long hard look, his deep brown eyes seemed to be saying '_I won't stop you, I know that you need her, but please, be good to her.'_ He neighed loudly, and then disappeared over the hill. The mare answered him, but didn't stop.

oXoXoXo

"Well done, Estel! I must admit, I am truly amazed," said Legolas as the Ranger halted beneath the tree with his prize. The mare was eying the huge fire with only some apprehension. Aragorn marvelled at how brave she was. "Forgive me," The elf continued, "I never thought that you would succeed."

"Don't underestimate me!" Aragorn dismounted and handed Roheryn's reins to Legolas. He untied the palomino from the horse's saddle and managed to find some more of the herbs in the saddlebag. Legolas watched in wonder as the Ranger fed her out of his hands, while holding onto the rope around her neck and rubbing her gently with his knuckles. The horse whickered and nudged his empty hand, asking for more. "I'm sorry, there isn't any. That was the last of it." Aragorn patted her. The mare snorted and shook her head.

oXo

"I suppose if we're ever going to get a move on, I'd best try mounting," said Aragorn, "Even though I'd prefer to bond with her more, but with the current circumstances that's not going to be possible. You'll ride Roheryn – I think it will be easier with your shoulder as it is." Legolas didn't say anything, so Aragorn took it as an agreement, and continued, "And I'll ride this wild beauty." The Ranger rubbed her neck gently.

oXo

Legolas tied Roheryn and got up, clutching the tree trunk for a few moments as a wave of dizziness swept over him.

"I'll help you with the breaking in," the elf offered.

"That would be greatly appreciated," Aragorn thanked him, "but are you able enough?"

Legolas _glared_ at him. "Would I have offered my assistance if I was unsure as to my condition?"

"Yes, now if you're sure you're alright, then could you hold this rope?"

Speaking softly to the mare in Sindarin, Legolas took the rope in his left hand and extended his right for the horse to explore, so that she could get accustomed to his scent. She extended her elegant neck and snuffled at the elf's palm with her delicate, velvet muzzle. Legolas stood very still. Satisfied that the young elf meant her no harm, the golden mare licked his upturned palm gently and then blew gently through her nose. Her warm breath felt good.

"She likes you," said Aragorn, smiling.

"Aye." Legolas scratched the horse's cheek. The Ranger was surprised when the mare didn't pull away – an untrained horse didn't usually enjoy having its stomach or face touched, but the palomino actually leant in closer, pushing at Legolas's fingers, asking the elf to keep scratching.

"Do you have any rope to spare?" Aragorn asked Legolas.

The elf nodded, thinking sadly of the _hithlain_ one that he had used for Nimros's halter. "In my pack."

Aragorn fetched the rope and made it into a simple bridle for the mare. It did not use a bit, but still allowed him efficient control, as when the reins were pulled, a strap on the bridle pressurized the horse's nose and chin grooves. She didn't object when he slipped it on.

"Well, that's good – bridle's on." Aragorn fetched a log and rolled it up to the horse's side to use as a mounting block. He got up on it and pressed his hands on the palomino's back, watching carefully for a negative reaction. Legolas moved in closer and took the rope with both hands, holding it at the knot. He moved it further up the horse's neck with his right arm and tightened the loop. He got the horses to lower her head so that he could take the rope in his left hand too, as he found that he couldn't move his shoulder to reach up.

oXo

Next, Aragorn leaned over the palomino's back, putting more weight on. The mare's ears immediately flicked back, but Legolas said something to her and they came forward again. The Ranger stayed in this uncomfortable position for a good few minutes. Then, he quickly swung his leg over the palomino's side. Mistake. The Ranger sat on the horse's back for scarcely five seconds before being bucked. Legolas had the sense to let go of the rope, as his stitches would have been ripped out for sure if he hadn't.

oXo

Aragorn described a graceful arc as he sailed through the air and landed in a patch of sand not too far away. The horse swished her tail and rolled her eyes. Legolas waited till she was still, then he took hold of the rope again. The elf reached his right hand gently up her neck, calming the horse.

"Whoa, steady…"

oXo

Aragorn got to his feet and dusted himself off. He winced, rubbing his leg. It felt numb, but that was not unusual, seeing as he had fallen on it with most of his weight. Limbs sometimes felt like that after a hard fall. Luckily there were no bones broken – he wasn't seriously injured. The Ranger chuckled.

"Well, it's a start!" He went up to the palomino and tried again, but with the same results.

oXo

Five unsuccessful attempts later, Legolas looked at the Ranger lying in the dirt.

"I'll try. I'm lighter than you."

"Very well," said the Ranger, getting up, brushing himself off and wincing for the fifth time, "but what if you fall?" He looked worried, "It's very likely. You'll really get hurt! You have a lot of broken bones in that shoulder. The stitches will rip too, and believe me, that will be nasty."

Legolas frowned. "Somehow I think I'll be okay."

"Well, alright then," Aragorn limped stiffly over and took the rope, holding it in the same fashion as the elf had been, "But you can't move your shoulder – how will you manage?"

"With one arm. Watch and see." Legolas went to the improvised 'mounting block', stepped onto it, and put his hands on the horse's back, putting weight on only his right, speaking softly to the mare. Then he leant forward, putting more weight on his arm. The elf swung his leg over and sat easily on the mare's back, speaking softly in Sindarin all the while. Aragorn hadn't done this, Legolas noted. The elf cautiously took up the reins. Still, he wasn't thrown off.

"Yeah! Well done!" Aragorn commended him, grinning.

"Try leading me." Legolas did not return the smile. His face was blank and expressionless.

"Good idea." Aragorn took hold of the cheekpiece of the bridle with one hand. He led elf and horse forward without any trouble. "I'm beginning to think _you'd_ better ride her!"

"I think so, too," Legolas agreed, "She has taken well to me."

"Alright, that's settled then. You'll ride –"

"Nienor."

"Not _Sorrow_, Legolas!" Aragorn protested, "Something like "Laurë" if you want to name her! Not "Nienor"!

"Nienor."

"Fine, fine! You'll ride _Nienor_ and I'll ride Roheryn! But must you really call the horse _Sorrow_, Legolas?"

"Yes."

Aragorn sighed. He felt sorry for his friend. The elf had suffered a great loss. "Alright then. Nienor it is."

oXo

Nienor tossed her head and stamped, as if accepting her new name. The horse obviously had no idea what the word meant, but she seemed to like it.

"We can put…Nimros's tack on her," Legolas said, "I want to keep it to…remind me of him." The elf quickly bowed his head and made a big show of plaiting a section of Nienor's mane so that Aragorn wouldn't see the tears in his eyes. He was embarrassed about his show of emotion earlier, and didn't want it to happen again. _Be strong, Legolas_! he told himself, _You're a Prince of Mirkwood! You're an elf! You should not show emotion! Stop dwelling on the past!_ But all the same, a single tear managed to escape and run down his cheek. Legolas scrubbed at his face, furious at himself. Aragorn noticed, but chose not say anything. "Itch," the elf explained, without being asked. Aragorn nodded. Legolas scowled. He dismounted and retrieved Nimros's harness. This meant going rather close to where the body still burned, but the elf forced himself to stay focused on the task at hand, and not look away from the tack he held in his hands. He came back to Nienor and carefully slipped it on. Legolas began to do up the buckles, but he got stuck on the last one. It involved a movement that he couldn't perform at present. He was about to try it anyway, and most likely injure his shoulder further, when Aragorn stepped in and did it up for him. The Ranger could see that the elf had upset himself again. Legolas scowled even more when it took the Ranger a mere three seconds to do up the offensive catch. Aragorn took the rope off Nienor's neck. "Well," he said, "you hold her. I just have to pack up, and then we can go." The Ranger put everything back into his pack and loaded it onto Roheryn. He untied the horse and mounted.

oXo

Legolas put his foot in one of the leather stirrups and got up. He gathered up the reins. Aragorn rode up to them, holding the _hithlain_ rope in his hand.

"I think it would be best if we tied Nienor to Roheryn, just in case she tries to bolt."

"Alright, fine."

Aragorn leaned over and tied one end of the rope to the mare's bridle and the other to Roheryn's saddle. "Ready?"

"Ready."

"Let's go." Aragorn nudged his stallion into a walk. "Are you comfortable with a trot, Legolas?"

"Whatever."

"Okay then, the faster the better." Aragorn pressed Roheryn into a trot, Nienor following meekly.

TBC.

_Wow! Loooong chapter! Over 4300 words! I don't think any of the others are this long! I thought this one was rather funny and cute, too. Tell me what you think, good or bad? Poor horse – Sorrow! Poor Legolas. . _


	7. A Surprise

_A/N: I won't be updating for a while as I'm going on a school camp .:shudder:., and then it's school, but I'll try anyway once I get back from camp. Please be patient though! Here's chapter seven. (I'll see if I can get ch8 in before I go, but I might not be able to…)_

Chapter Seven

When the Misty Mountains were almost upon the two riders, one of them seated upon a golden wild horse, Legolas suddenly cried out excitedly,

"Yrch! Yrch!" Startled, Nienor reared, and the young elf's face twisted with pain. "Stille, stille!" He calmed the frightened mare. "I see them!" Legolas said to Aragorn, his voice lowered so as not to scare his mount again.

"I cannot!" Aragorn squinted into the distance, "You lead us then. Do they have the captive?"

"Aye! One of the figures is different from the rest." Legolas rode up front. "I'm willing to risk a canter. Let us go!" The elf squeezed Nienor into the next gait. Roheryn followed suite.

oXo

Looking down at the golden shoulders beneath him, Legolas tried hard to imagine that they were white, pure white, and that the long mane was not flaxen but the colour of virgin snow. No! He couldn't cry now! _Stop it, Legolas! You can do this while everyone's asleep tonight if you really must_ (he caught himself thinking optimistically)_, but you've done enough…displaying of the emotions for all to see for one day!_ The Mirkwood Prince pushed the horses into a gallop. His mare was by no means slow. Now at least he had an excuse for his wet eyes.

oXo

"Legolas?" Aragorn shouted over the whistling of the air rushing past them, "Is…this…wise? You…don't have any…weapons…and I…doubt that you can…fight!" His words were torn from his mouth almost before he had a chance to utter them.

"Oh…I can…fight, Estel! You'll…see! I'll…dismount and use…one of my…knives!"

"No!" Aragorn yelled back, "…Stay on! Use my…sword!" He didn't want Legolas injured further.

"Okay! Use my…knives then!"

"Right, let me…give you the…sword! Even I can…see the…goblins now! One, two, three…canter! Trot! Walk….whoa! They halted the horses. Aragorn rode up close, unsheathed his blade, and handed it to Legolas, who took it in his right hand and twirled it, getting accustomed to the weight and feel of the blade. Aragorn pulled Legolas's knives out of the elf's pack and similarly familiarized himself with the blades before sticking them into his belt. Legolas held the sword in such a way that he was still able to hold the reins with two hands. The Ranger and the elf set off at a gallop again.

oXo

Suddenly Legolas gave a cry, "Aragorn!"

"What is it?" The Ranger was alarmed.

"That elf!"

"What about him?" Aragorn feared the worst.

Legolas shook his head impatiently. "No no no! He's not a him, Estel! He's a _her_!"

TBC

_.:Heehee:. Everyone thought the elf was a he! Tricked you! She's a she! Anyway, this chapter is so short (sorry) that it took me about 1/2 hour to type, so I might get ch8 in after all!_


	8. Rescue

_A/N: Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorryt that I haven't updated in so long:( I didn't have a chance before camp. Now I have this horrible cold. I am like dying :( .:sniff:. .:achoo:. Also, my internet connection was down! The server broke and we had to get a new one, and then we couldn't connect! I was like panicking! Well here's the chapter:) And the next three!_

Chapter Eight

"What!" Aragorn was disbelieving.

"The elf!" Legolas repeated, "'He' is a she!"

"But you said ---"

"Oh, forget it, Estel! Ride, for I fear that she will not survive long once we are spotted! We must be swift!" Legolas and Aragorn dug their heels into their mounts, and Nienor bucked at the uncomfortable sensation, but Legolas had a firm hold on her mane and he was gripping her sides tightly with his legs, and so he did not fall. He did, however, experience a short, tearing pain in his shoulder as the reins were nearly wrenched from his hands. _Pain, but nothing more_. Thinking nothing of it, the elf rode on.

oXo

"Aargh! What the hell are _those_!" A goblin swordsman looked up as the two riders thundered towards him. All the members of the small group were weary, dusty, dispirited, and had been constantly bickering. There were only about twenty goblins in all and they did not much feel like fighting any great foe – they were content with forever maiming each other, as was obvious from hideous scars and numerous fresh wounds.

"Horses! Two horses!" confirmed a second.

A third goblin, an archer, squinted at the approaching figures, his eyes sorely unaccustomed to the light of day, trying to make out the hazy shapes, "They have riders!"

"Two men! No! A man and a bloody elf! The man has two knives and the elf has a sword! We're doomed!"

Total pandemonium ensued.

"Aargh! Run!"

"We're all dead!"

"It's your bloody fault I can't fight now! I've only got one hand!"

"Shut the hell or I'll cut off yer other one!"

"Forget the fighting! Scarper!" The goblins were all dashing in separate directions, colliding with each other in their panic.

"Ouch, you bastard!"

"He's gonna get me!"

"Now I've only got one tooth left!"

oXo

"SILENCE! BE STILL!" The goblin captain, who was carrying the bound and gagged she-elf, a large, scarred creature missing an eye and two fingers, roared. The others froze, stealing glances at the advancing riders in dismay. "WE DON'T RUN! WE FIGHT! ALL OF YOU MAGGOTS! NOW! GET 'EM! TO THE DEATH!" He hit the captive hard over the head, knocking her unconscious. The goblin dropped her in the dust, drew a long, curved scimitar and charged towards Legolas and Aragorn. The other goblins hung back, but when their leader turned, pulled a knife from his belt, and flung it into their midst, catching one of their number in the throat and slaying him instantly, they needed no further encouragement. The goblins charged to meet Legolas and Aragorn.

oXo

The two parties collided with a clash of steel, and then there were screams and cries as goblins were ploughed down by Nienor and Roheryn. The rope connecting the two horses also served well to trip up and strangle.

oXo

When the creatures had closed in too thickly around Legolas and Aragorn for the horses to trample any more, the two friends halted their mounts. To try and charge through the goblins now would be death for the horses.

oXo

Leaning forward, Legolas stabbed a goblin in the chest, slaying the foul creature. Blood sprayed. Nienor reared as she received a minor cut, her neck hitting Legolas full in the face. Pain lanced through his head and he nearly dropped Aragorn's sword. The young elf sat up straight, blinking and quickly trying to wipe away some of the blood that was pouring from his nose before thrusting Aragorn's keen blade into a second goblin's chest.

oXo

Aragorn leaped off Roheryn and stood next to the horse, preventing him from injury, slaying any goblins in his reach. The Ranger had natural talent with the White Knives – before its world went black, one of the goblins found itself choking on its own blood, one blade in each side of its chest. Aragorn pulled the blades out of the mutilated body and disemboweled another enemy. By now, there weren't very many goblins left alive. Bringing Aragorn's sword smashing down on a goblin skull and cleaving it in two, Legolas noticed this. There were only about six goblins to go, including the captain. Excellent. They were doing well. No serious injuries. True, the elf's nosebleed wasn't showing any signs of letting up, and his nose hurt alright, but the injury certainly wasn't life threatening. Legolas suddenly sneezed, spraying crimson all over Nienor's mane and withers.

oXo

Aragorn thrust one knife forward and one knife back, slaying two goblins in one fluid movement. Legolas beheaded a third and rode another two down. He stopped, breathing hard. That was it. No, it couldn't be. Where was the captain?

"Aragorn?" the elf asked thickly, "Did you slay the commander?"

The Ranger shook his head, glancing about. "No, I --- OVER THERE! HURRY!" he suddenly cried, sighting something.

Legolas turned and saw the goblin captain galloping towards the she-elf, laughing maniacally. Leaping onto Roheryn, Aragorn took off at a full gallop, Legolas right beside him. Miraculously, the rope connecting the two horses had not been slashed in the skirmish, and still swung between them.

oXo

Reaching the she-elf, the goblin captain skidded to a halt beside her and raised his scimitar high over his head, intending to plunge it into her heart, but suddenly Legolas and Aragorn reached him. The elf was faster than the Ranger. Before Aragorn had even gotten off Roheryn, Legolas, despite his injury, had thrown himself from Nienor's back, oblivious to pain. He wrestled the knife from the goblin's grip and thrust it through the creature's windpipe with a sickening crunch. Looking down at his own scimitar imbedded up to its hilt in his neck, the captain gave an odd sound and stopped struggling. He spat up some blood and then all was still.

oXo

"Yeah! We've done it!" yelled Aragorn, punching the air. He kicked the goblin's body.

"Yeah, we've…done it…" Panting, and his nose now a scarlet fountain, Legolas pulled himself off the captain, sniffing.

Aragorn started. "Bloody hell, Legolas, you look awful!"

"I'm okay." Wincing, the elf dusted himself off with his good arm, trying not to jar his injured shoulder, "It's the hostage you have to worry about." Legolas sneezed again and spat out a mouthful of blood. He pulled a face in disgust.

"Are you…sure…?" Aragorn's face creased with worry.

"Yes!" The young elf rolled his eyes and grabbed the Ranger's arm, annoyed, "I'm fine!"

"Okay then…" Aragorn sighed at his friend's stubbornness. He snatched the rope between the two horses. Roheryn had planted his feet firmly to avoid being dragged off by Nienor, who was trying to run, having found all the panic just too much to bear. Aragorn whispered gently to her, and then both horses were still.

oXo

Legolas pulled Aragorn onto the ground beside the unconscious she-elf. The Ranger thought he saw a spark of recognition in his friend's eyes. His hand trembling slightly, Legolas felt for a pulse on the she-elf's neck.

"Alive, Aragorn, she lives!" The Mirkwood Prince stroked the she-elf's long blonde hair, so similar to his own. Then he pushed it back off her face. "Árë," he breathed, untying the gag.

oXo

Aragorn had only seen the she-elf a few times on his visits to Mirkwood, and though she might look remarkably like a female version of Legolas, the Ranger knew that she was no relation to him. As he helped his friend remove Árë's bonds, he couldn't help but realize that the she-elf was exceptionally beautiful. And from the way that Legolas was gazing at her, starry eyed, he guessed that the relationship between the two elves was closer than just friends. _She must be a lover_, the Ranger decided, smiling to himself. Legolas didn't see him, as the Mirkwood Prince was busy stroking the she-elf's cheek gently. Árë was clothed in a raiment of greens, not unlike any other Wood Elf. She wore a long dark green dress and a mist grey cloak. Legolas noticed that the clasp was missing. The she-elf also had on tall suede boots. Legolas noticed with a surge of anger that there were tiny lacerations around her neck, which suggested that she had been wearing a necklace at the time of her capture, and that it had been ripped off her. Yes, she had been wearing a necklace. Legolas had given it to her himself. It had been a moonstone leaf on a Mithril chain, almost exactly like her brooch. _But why didn't I realize it was her when I picked up the brooch?_ Legolas wondered._ Well, I believed Ada when he spoke of the captive as a he! Anyway, Árë was supposed to be off visiting her relatives in Lórien! _The goblins had obviously ripped the necklace off the she-elf. It was probably on one of the many bodies somewhere, but there was no time to search for the piece of jewelry. There was a large gash on Árë's forehead which looked nasty, and she was still unconscious. _Goblins; filthy little ---_

"Legolas," said Aragorn, interrupting his thoughts.

"Huh?" Legolas sniffed. His dripping nose was really irritating him.

"Let's get away from all of these dead goblins and into some shade," the Ranger suggested.

"Good idea."

"I think I'd better carry her." Aragorn saved his friend the embarrassment of admitting the fact that his injury prevented him from doing it himself.

"Yeah, err…alright." Legolas agreed reluctantly.

"Take the horses then." Aragorn handed over the rope and gently scooped the she-elf up.

For a few seconds Legolas had a sudden feeling that he was losing his claim to Árë, and felt a kind of primitive aggression towards the Ranger, but then felt silly for feeling that way and blushed slightly. Aragorn was only trying to help, not take Árë for his own. Anyway, that sort of behavior was for animals, not elves. Legolas wasn't exactly sure as to whether or not human men in general behaved like this, but he trusted Aragorn, even though the Ranger might behave slightly illogically at times.

oXo

Aragorn carried Árë over to a clump of trees and gently settled her in the shade.

"Fetch my bedroll!" Legolas said, his voice suddenly taking on a very princely tone, making Aragorn want to laugh, "I won't have her just lying in the grass like that!"

"Yes, Legolas."

"Did you just roll your eyes at me!"

"No, Legolas." Aragorn was trying very hard to keep from laughing, so he turned to Roheryn before his attempts failed. He would have loved to salute or bow, but that would have blown it. The Ranger grabbed Legolas's bedroll and took down his pack. He put it down and unrolled the bedroll, placing it beside Árë. He then lifted the she-elf onto it and placed the blanket over her.

Legolas put his right hand on his hip and looked at Aragorn's work quizzically, head tipped to one side.

"Satisfied, Legolas?" Aragorn sniggered to himself.

"Yes," the elf chose to ignore the Ranger's teasing, "I do believe I am."

Aragorn reached into his pack and removed his healer's bag. He took a cloth from it and held it out to Legolas. "Here," he said, "clean your face up. It's a mess."

"Hannon le." Legolas took the cloth and began to mop at his face.

When the elf had cleaned away most of the blood, Aragorn inspected him. "No, it doesn't appear broken."

"Doesn't appear!"

"It's not."

Legolas sighed with relief.

"But it is red and swollen."

"Wha---" Legolas looked very dismayed indeed. For Árë to wake and see him like that…Not good, NOT GOOD! "It's still bleeding."

"Put your head forward and pinch your nose shut," Aragorn instructed him, tied the horses, and got to work on the she-elf's cut. All it needed was cleaning and bandaging, no stitching.

Legolas did as the Ranger had told him, wincing as his fingers pressurized a sore spot. Soon, the bleeding stopped.

"How's the redness and swelling?" Legolas asked Aragorn anxiously.

"Nearly gone," the Ranger assured him, finishing his work, "you elves have amazing healing ability."

"Excellent. How long till Árë wakes?"

"Any time now. She's just unconscious – she looks too healthy to have been poisoned."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! That goblin whacked her over the head – hard."

"Bastard!" Legolas exclaimed, "Well, he didn't live to tell the tale! Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, had his revenge for that, aye, and for, for…" The elf's voice trailed off and he lowered his eyes.

Reminded of horses, Aragorn suddenly remembered something. "Legolas! You threw yourself off Nienor! Is your shoulder ---?"

"Ssh!" Legolas held up his hand for silence.

Árë was beginning to stir. She groaned and opened a pair of deep emerald eyes, blinking slowly until her world came into focus.

oXo

Legolas drew a long, deep breath, his eyes shining, and touched her hand gently. "Man…man mathach?" he managed to stutter. _How do you feel?_

"…Legolas?" Árë fixed those enchanting eyes upon the Prince of Mirkwood.

"Aye! Árë! You're safe!" Legolas leant over and kissed the she-elf on the cheek, overjoyed. "I thought you were off in Lórien! How did you ---!"

Árë put her hand on Legolas's lips. "I was planning to leave that morning, but then the goblins…and I couldn't find you. I went out to see if you had perhaps gone out, and then, well…"

"You got captured?"

Árë nodded.

"Oh, Árë!" Legolas sighed, "I was with the archers, commanding battalions six and seven." He helped her to sit up against a tree trunk.

Árë suddenly caught sight of Aragorn. "Iston le?" she asked herself. _Do I know you? _

"Mae," Aragorn answered in Sindarin, having heard her, "Im Aragorn." _Yes, I'm Aragorn._

Árë narrowed her eyes, trying to remember, and then she smiled warmly. "Aragorn son of Arathorn."

"That's right."

Árë smiled again and turned to Legolas. "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

The elf frowned. "Saving you of course!"

"Did King Thranduil give you permission to do this alone?"

"I'm not alone. I've got Aragorn. I met up with him on the way!"

"That's not what I meant." Árë was giving him a LOOK. "Alone as in without any other ELVES, Legolas Greenleaf!"

"Err…well…not exactly…But Aragorn and I managed perfectly well on our own!" Legolas hugged her close with his good arm.

"I don't think so!" Árë pulled away, "Look at you! There's blood on your face, I can see bandages through that hole in your shirt, and whose horse is that palomino? She's not Aragorn's – his is the stallion, and she's not yours either. Where is Nimros? Legolas? What's wrong?"

"Árë…he's…he…didn't make it this far…" Legolas swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"Oh…" Árë's green eyes filled with tears. She had loved the big white horse too. Often at night she had snuck into his stable to feed him some treat or to pour out all her worries into his long soft mane, and always he had listened, and then she would tiptoe back into the Palace feeling much better. He couldn't be gone. "Legolas, I'm so sorry…"

"It's…okay…" Before he knew it, the Prince of Mirkwood was huddled in Árë's lap being cuddled as if he were a sad elfling.

oXo

Suddenly Aragorn had a thought. Legolas had been gone nearly five days now…what was happening back at the palace? King Thranduil must either be frantic with worry or plain furious! They'd better get back soon if they didn't want the Elvenking to send out a search party or even come after them himself!

TBC.


	9. Where Is Legolas?

Chapter Nine

Back at the Palace, King Thranduil was in a rage. Prince Legolas had been gone nearly five days now! He was definitely not on a hunting trip. Anyway, he had snuck out in the dead of night with his horse, without notifying anyone, _and_ he had drugged the Palace guards. Clearly he hadn't wanted anyone to know that he was leaving.

Thranduil sighed. He should have known! That adventure seeking son of his had gone out to rescue the captive! Thranduil had been sure to speak of the elf as a he so that Legolas wouldn't suspect that Árë had been captured, but he had obviously decided to go questing anyway.

"Rhaich!" the Elvenking swore. _Curses!_ He marched up to the nearest guard, who saluted smartly.

"Hír nin!" _My Lord!_

"And you just keep saying that you know _nothing_ about my son's disappearance!" Thranduil shouted.

"Aye, my Lord!" The elf cowered visibly, "All the guards on duty were drugged!"

"I KNOW THAT!" the Elvenking exploded, "…Continue!"

"That is all, I am afraid. We came round the following morn to hear the news that the Prince was gone." The guard hung his head in shame. "I am sorry, my Lord. I have failed you."

Thranduil apparently thought so too. "Spread the word: all guards who were on duty that night are to have their weapons confiscated until further notice! Give me yours now."

Sorrowfully, the guard removed a beautiful sword and sword belt, an elegant bow, and a quiver filled with arrows fletched with swan feathers; all truly exquisite weapons. He placed them at King Thranduil's feet, bowed, "My Lord," and took off at a run to spread his sad tidings to his fellow guards. The elf's gait was slightly awkward, as he missed the familiar weight of the sword at his hip and the quiver on his back.

oXo

Thranduil sighed again. Taking his anger out on his subjects wasn't going to get his son back. Leaning against a pillar, the Elvenking closed his eyes, covering his face with his hands and enjoying the feel of the cool stone at his back. He was startled by a sudden voice.

"My Lord? Are you alright?"

Thranduil opened his eyes. He knew the voice well. It belonged to his best friend, a strikingly handsome young elf with long, pitch black hair tied back in warrior braids and deep, thoughtful azure eyes. The captain of the guard was looking extremely worried, and he was holding a bundle of weapons.

"All guards who were on duty were to have their weapons confiscated. Sen tîr?" _Is this true?_

"Elenath? You were on duty?" Thranduil groaned. How could he confiscate his best friend's weapons?

"Aye. Is it true? Am I to lose my weapons?" He placed them sadly at the King's feet – a sword with a jewelled hilt, two white knives, and a magnificent bow and arrows. Elenath's weapons were fit for a prince. Thranduil had given them to him after the dark haired elf had saved the King from drowning after his horse had thrown him into an icy winter stream. The water had been flowing fast and the temperature several degrees below freezing, so that the Elvenking wasn't able to get himself out. Elenath had saved him, and the two elves had quickly become very good friends. Thranduil could never take those gifts back.

"Elenath, no! I could never, not after what you've done for me!" Thranduil bent, picked up the weapons, and passed them back to a much relieved Elenath. "Take them."

"But what about the others, my Lord? I have no excuse. Being your best friend does not make me any better than them!" Elenath protested as he strapped his weapons back on.

Thranduil grinned mischievously at him. "You're the captain of the guard, and _I_ told you you could keep the weapons. Also, how many times must I tell you to stop calling me 'my Lord'! Just plain old 'Thranduil' will do!"

"I'll try, my L--- err, Thr-Thranduil."

"That's it."

Elenath turned to leave, but Thranduil stopped him. "Ahem…Elenath?"

"My Lord? Sorry – Thranduil?"

"How would you like to go on a little, err…adventure?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, how about going after Legolas? He's gone after Árë ---" Thranduil sighed, remembering the fair face of Legolas's lover, whom he was certain was dead, "and he's been gone for far too long. I fear he's gotten into trouble."

"Who will be going?"

"Just us."

Elenath frowned. "Is that such a good idea?"

Thranduil didn't answer the younger elf's question. Instead, he said, "I will leave Dagnir to look after the Palace while I am away."

"Your advisor?"

"Aye."

"Well then…" Elenath could see no way out of this, "When do we leave?"

"Now. You get our things ready; I'll make the arrangements with Dagnir."

Elenath started to hurry off, but Thranduil stopped him again. "You'd better take those weapons off – you don't want to answer any awkward questions."

Both elves exchanged a wink before Elenath did as he'd been told and dashed off. Thranduil hid the weapons behind the pillar and went on his way. _I'll get Legolas back!_

oXo

Elenath nearly went straight into Thranduil as he came flying down one of the many passages, balancing packs, Thranduil's weapons, bedrolls, and ornate saddles and bridles in his arms. The Elvenking had successfully informed his advisor that he was now temporarily in charge and he was congratulating himself on a job well done, and so was rather startled. Thranduil caught Elenath as he swerved violently, toppled, and nearly fell. "Elenath! What in Middle Earth! You've packed everything except the kitchen sink! Here – let me take some of that!"

"Err, well…heh heh, I don't like to be unprepared, you know!"

Thranduil opened a small, but heavy sack and gawped at the contents. "What's this? Wine? More wine! ELENATH! Sometimes I think you're part hobbit!"

The captain of the guard grinned sheepishly. "Well, got to keep my strength up, you know…Everyone likes a good drink now and then…"

Thranduil shook his head and grinned back. "Well, you are carrying all of this extra baggage, not me!"

"Aye aye! To the stables!"

The two friends made for the stable block, Thranduil grabbing Elenath's weapons as they passed the pillar.

oXo

The elves arrived at the stables without any questions, as the King's business was his own, and as Elenath was with the King, the same applied to him. Nonetheless, the young elf avoided eye contact and walked quickly. Elenath put down his luggage and slipped into the nearest stable with Thranduil's tack. The stable housed the Elvenking's red stallion, Bregedur. The horse was named for his fiery coat colour, but he had a temperament to match it. He was not unpleasant, but he was brave, loyal, true, wild, fast and kind. He whickered to Elenath as the captain tacked him up, even going so far as to lower his head and open his mouth for the bit. Elenath finished and led him out to Thranduil, and then went past the empty stable that had belonged to Nimros, and to his own horse, Gildin, a stunning silver mare that Elenath loved dearly. Gildin whinnied as he entered, and stood still while she was readied, showing how well trained elven horses were. Her master did up the last buckle, patted the mare's silver flank, took the reins, and lead her out into the courtyard. The young elf took one look at all their baggage and groaned.

"Thranduil, we'll need a third horse!"

"Elenath, I warned you…"

"But I NEED all of this!" Elenath threw his hands in the air, nearly whacking Gildin on the nose. He looked very comical, and rather pathetic.

"Oh, alright, if you must!" Thranduil just wanted to be on his way as soon as possible.

"I will fetch Gwirith." Elenath dashed into the tack room and fetched a light, plain saddle and a simple bridle; tack meant for a pack horse. He disappeared into a stall and came out with a pretty dun mare onto which he began to load their baggage. He didn't tie the mare to any of the other horses, as she was so well trained that she would follow them without ropes. Eventually, all was ready, and Thranduil and Elenath mounted. They rode through the courtyard and halted behind the Palace gates.

"EDRO!" yelled Thranduil. The gates moved noiselessly apart to let them pass and the two elves and the pack horse following rode out into the dark forest, both elves instinctively placing a hand on the pommels of their swords, and the horses whinnying nervously and flicking their ears back.

TBC


	10. A Knife In The Dark

Chapter Ten

Legolas and Aragorn rode back the way they had come, Árë riding side-saddle behind Legolas. They camped on the banks of the River Celebrant that night.

oXo

Long after everyone else had fallen asleep, Legolas lay quietly on his blanket, but sleep wouldn't come to his tired body. He had given Árë his bedroll, and Aragorn had surrendered his blanket, so the she-elf was the only one among them who was getting a comfortable night's sleep. Legolas's shoulder was throbbing painfully, and his body prickled with waves of heat. He could feel sweat rising on his brow. That was very unusual for an elf. Legolas put his hand to his forehead, wondering if one could feel one's own temperature. Yes, his skin definitely felt hotter than usual. His fever must be back. Abandoning his attempts to fall asleep, Legolas got up. Perhaps a walk would make him feel better? It was worth a try. The young elf stole past Árë, glancing at her lovingly, and then he padded past Aragorn. Legolas paused for a moment beside the sleeping Ranger. He could always ask Aragorn for some medication, but he hadn't the heart to wake him. No. Shaking his head, the young elf moved quietly on, his movements graceful despite his pain.

oXo

Nienor and Roheryn whickered to Legolas as he passed, and the elf stopped. _Why not ride?_ Legolas thought. The company of an animal, especially a horse, always made him feel better. Perhaps it was only grief that was worrying him, but then, whoever heard of suffering a fever from grief? Legolas crept back to his bed, found his pack, and took out Nienor's bridle. He returned to the horses, slipped the bridle onto the mare, and undid the knot that secured a section of rope around the horse's neck. It was in turn tied around a tree trunk. Legolas led the mare quietly away from the camp and then took the reins over her head and mounted with some difficulty. Touching the horse with his heels, the young elf set off. Nienor's coat shone silver in the moonlight. _Like tears,_ thought Legolas, _Her name is Sorrow, so her coat is silver in the moonlight, like tears._

oXo

Legolas rode for a long time, and before he knew it, he had ridden far from the camp. He wasn't feeling any better – he was feeling worse. His shoulder pains had intensified, his stomach felt sick, and he had a headache. The elf reached up and felt his forehead again. His temperature had definitely gone up, and by several degrees. Legolas started to shiver slightly, and Nienor whickered gently, sensing his discomfort. The elf rubbed her neck, removing the drops of dried blood that still clung to her coat. _I'd best turn back now,_ he thought, _I'm really not feeling good at all. I'll have to wake Aragorn, like it or not._ Legolas's shoulder gave a sudden twinge, making the elf wince, and he reached back to touch it gingerly. Legolas was shocked and horrified when his hand came back sticky with his own blood. _What now? I'm bleeding again! Why? _Then the answer came to him. Of course! When Nienor had reared earlier, he had felt that tearing, bursting pain – the stitches ripping! His shoulder had obviously started bleeding slowly, and after rescuing Árë, everyone had been so busy, and Aragorn had forgotten to check the wound. The blood hadn't come through the bandages until now. "Rhaich!" _Curses!_ Legolas turned Nienor and urged her into a trot, then a canter. He was about to ask for a gallop when he heard something. Both he and Nienor froze. Standing not ten paces from them was the large hulking shape of an Uruk-hai warrior.

oXo

"NORO LIM! NORO LIM NIENOR! TO ARAGORN!" Legolas cried, just as a tiny knife flashed through the air and imbedded itself in the left side of his chest. Nienor screamed and reared, and Legolas fell hard, spraining his left wrist. There was also a cracking sound in his right ankle, and then intense pains like fingers of ice began shooting up and down his leg, and then they were tongues of flame, burning, and then cold again, and then white hot, and then freezing cold again. His ankle was going to explode. "Noro…lim, Nienor! Noro go sûl!" Legolas cried weakly, hoping that the mare would obey. _Ride with the wind!_ Nienor had already turned in the direction of camp. Oh, how Legolas hoped she would listen! There was helpful bloodspray on the mare's neck from when the knife had hit him. Aragorn would know that some evil fate had befallen him and would hopefully come after him. _If I live,_ thought Legolas grimly, trying to hang onto consciousness. Now would not be a good time to lose it!

oXo

"Well, well, well! What have we here?" The Uruk stomped over to Legolas, who was clutching his ankle, although this only seemed to make the agony worse, but right now he needed something to hold onto. The knife was still in his chest and he was dripping blood. "An elf?"

"Gwanno…ereb…nin…!" _Leave me alone! _Legolas released his ankle and raised his fist weakly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I don't speak elvish." The Uruk-hai sneered, and lowered Legolas's fist gently, hardly using any force, just to prove how weak the elf was.

"I said…leave me…alone!" Legolas's deep blue eyes were glazed over with pain.

"Not a chance!" The Uruk narrowed its feline eyes, "You have fair hair! You're that elf-king from that far off forest! The crows that flew over your pathetic palace saw the king. Your archers shot them all down but one, and it reported that your stupid king has light hair – like yours! You're the elf the White Wizard wants! You have some information he seeks!" The Uruk-hai was triumphant.

_At least I won't be killed,_ Legolas thought. It wasn't that he feared death, but he had a feeling that he still had an important part to play in life, and anyway, he had Aragorn and Árë, his two closest friends, his father, and Elenath, who was like a brother, and Elladan and Elrohir, and…There were a lot of people that would mourn his death! _It appears they want some kind of information from me, but they think I'm my father, just because of my hair colour! Most elves at the palace have fair hair…except Elenath and a few other exceptions…_

oXo

The Uruk suddenly grabbed Legolas and slung him over his back, knife and all. The creature had the common sense not to pull the blade out – Legolas would have bled to death in minutes. The elf didn't protest at being handled, he merely gave a soft moan of utter agony and went limp, hoping it might help ease his pain.

The Uruk-hai shrugged his shoulders, bumping Legolas roughly. He laughed harshly. "Stop complaining!"

To his utter horror, Legolas suddenly coughed blood all over the back of the Uruk's filthy tunic.

The beast abruptly bumped him again as punishment. "I said stop that!" he growled.

"Stop…p-please!" Legolas spluttered, choking and spitting up more blood. He was terrified that his violent spasms might dislodge the knife, the only thing that was preventing him from bleeding to death. The Prince of Mirkwood had lost all dignity by addressing the Uruk with a plea, but right now his life might depend on it, and he was determined not to let his pride get in the way of that.

The Uruk-hai bumped him once more and then tired of the 'game'. He gave a loud whistle, and a huge, menacing shape emerged from behind a clump of bushes: a Warg. The beast was unusually large, but Uruks didn't usually ride, so it made sense that its steed should be larger than usual to, support its rider's weight. The Uruk-hai climbed onto the beast's back, pulling Legolas up with him. The shaggy monster snapped at the elf, but missed, and its master leant over and gave it a rough smack across the ears, causing it to yelp and cower.

"He's to be brought back alive, ye useless fleabag!" The Uruk dug his spurs into the Warg's sides and the beast set off at a gallop.

oXo

For Legolas, every pounding step was torture. He desperately tried to stay alert, but colours faded and went negative, he felt waves of a sick feeling he couldn't name, his head spun, stars flashed before his eyes, and he was sucked into a whirling vortex of colour, gone, before the count of twenty. The Uruk held the unconscious elf tightly to prevent him from slipping from the saddle – it would be bothersome to get off and pick him up if he did.

TBC

_A/N: This fic takes place just before the Ring Quest, so the info Saruman wants would be regarding the Ring, and when Legolas feels that he still has an important part to play in life, that is joining the Fellowship, though he doesn't yet know it, of course, but he predicts something…weird elvish foresight:) Poor Legolas! Will he be alright? Will Aragorn and Árë save him? His life rests in Nienor's hooves ;) Will she go back to Aragorn, or rejoin her herd? After all, she's wild! Questions, questions, and a bit of a cliffhanger! Lots of angst coming up:)_


	11. What Happened, Nienor?

Chapter Eleven

Nienor thundered into the camp, waking Aragorn and Árë instantly. Both she-elf and human sprang to their feet. Why was the mare loose?

Aragorn glanced over at Legolas's blanket. Empty.

Árë's green eyes went wide with fright. "Where is he, Aragorn?" she asked, as if the Ranger knew.

"I don't know!" Aragorn caught Nienor. The mare was trembling all over and she had worked up a sweat. The horse was frightened and had obviously been galloping hard for some distance. Where had she been and why had she come back? Nienor was wild, and could have just as easily made for her herd. Aragorn soothed her, and in doing so, he placed a hand on her neck. Feeling something sticky in her coat, the Ranger withdrew his hand and examined his fingers. The liquid was black in the moonlight. Aragorn already had a good idea of what it was, so he sniffed it to make sure. Blood, and it wasn't orc blood.

Árë saw it too, and the Ranger's grim expression. "Does this mean…" she began fearfully.

Aragorn nodded. "Legolas! He's in trouble! Make haste! We must pack up and go after him!"

oXo

Aragorn and Árë packed up camp in record time and loaded everything onto Roheryn.

"I'll ride Nienor," Árë said as she strapped the harness to the mare, who kept fidgeting.

Aragorn nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. _What happened!_ _Is Legolas even alive!_ The Ranger focused and said, "Alright, but try not to steer her – she might lead as to him."

Árë nodded, and she-elf and Ranger mounted and set off, Nienor leading of her own accord at a gallop. The mare seemed to know where she was going. Árë proved to be an excellent rider, sitting Nienor's pace expertly. The long dress she wore would have made riding difficult for most women, but not this she-elf, it seemed.

oXo

"So, what do you think has befallen him?" Árë asked Aragorn, on the brink of tears. The horses had slowed to a gentle canter.

"I'm not exactly sure," the Ranger answered, "but I've a good idea as to what happened. Here's the scenario – Legolas can't sleep. He decides to go riding, and runs into trouble. All I know is that it was…err, _violent_ and probably _painful_ trouble. He didn't have any weapons on him, so he was unable to defend himself if what I think is true and he was attacked. I don't know why he never took them – perhaps his head was not completely clear."

"Explain?"

"Legolas's shoulder wound was made by a poisoned arrow, and the symptoms of the poison seemed mainly to be a fever, but I gave him a dose of antidote before any more could show themselves, and he seemed fine. Perhaps his injury bothered him or his fever came back while we were asleep…" Aragorn suddenly felt very guilty. He should have given Legolas the next dose of antidote before they went to bed! Stupid, stupid, stupid! It was long overdue now, and it was all _his_ fault that the elf had gone wandering in the middle of the night, probably in a kind of feverish stupor, and maybe even gotten himself killed! Horrible images flashed through the Ranger's mind, and he tried to block them out. _Everything will be alright! Legolas is alive!_ But still, the pictures came…Legolas mauled to death by a pack of Wargs, Legolas lying quite still in the dirt somewhere, an arrow imbedded in his chest, and a crimson stain spreading slowly across his tunic like a blossoming flower…"Make them go away! Make them go away!"

"Aragorn!" Árë shouted, bringing him round.

"Oh!" The Ranger was breathing hard and he was shaking, "I'll be alright in a moment. I'm sorry."

"Legolas's next dose of antidote is a long time overdue, isn't it, and he could land up in a lot of trouble without it, couldn't he?" the she-elf asked quietly.

Silently, Aragorn nodded.

TBC.

_A/N: Smart horsey, eh? Horsey run back to Aragorn and do the Lassie thing :) See, another cliffie! Sorry it's so short!_


	12. Captive

_A/N: HELLOOOOOOOOOO! I'M BAAAAAAAACK! AFTER, LIKE, OVER A MONTH OF NO UPDATING! I feel terrible! Can 'my most sincere apologies' be enough to redeem myself? Guess what happened? My Internet was down THE ENTIRE TIME! WE EVENTUALLY HAD TO GET A NEW ADSL ROUTER! Anyway, my computer is still off, fortunately we have two, so I can put this on the jetflash! Well, now I'm back, and I hope no-one's deserted me,' cause that's sad:'( Well, without further ado, here is chapter twelve! P.S. Oh, I have written A LOT in my ff. book while the net. was down (I'm on pg 153!), mainly at night with a torch with the door closed while I was supposed to be sleeping at night – hee hee, that is fun, everybody try it sometime, just don't get caught, 'cause that _isn't _fun! ;) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY 2DAY! 8 March! I am 14! Err, right, here is chapter twelve – really! _

Chapter Twelve

When Legolas came to, he was lying on his side on the floor of some small cave. Huh? Where was he? Pain racked his body, and he remembered that he had been captured by the Uruk warrior. The elf could see out, and it was still night, so he couldn't have been in there too long, unless this was the second night…no, that was very unlikely. Legolas recoiled as he noticed that he was surrounded by Uruks and orcs. The knife had been removed from his chest and the wound was now roughly bandaged with dirty strips of cloth, but his other injuries had been left alone.

oXo

An orc carrying a bag shuffled up to the elf. "So, the Elvenking's awake now?" he smirked.

Legolas suddenly began to cough as his chest tightened painfully, spraying drops of blood onto his hand as he tried to stifle the agonizing spasms. With a huge effort, the elf managed to control them. He groaned and wiped the frothy red ring from around his mouth.

"And by the looks of thinks, the Elf-king isn't feeling too good either," the orc cackled.

"Hoi! _Snaga_!" an Uruk shouted at the orc, "Do yer duty!"

The orc hissed obnoxiously at the other before turning back to Legolas. "I've bin instructed to see ter yer injuries." The creature put down his bag and sat beside Legolas. "Sit up!" he growled.

Legolas tried, but the sudden pain in his chest was so severe that it nearly snuffed out his consciousness, and he fell backwards, his hand on the bandages, stars exploding in front of his eyes against a pitch black background.

"I said sit up! Or I'll make yer!" Legolas' vision cleared, and he saw the orc baring its dirty fangs. The elf gritted his teeth against the agony, shut his eyes, and pushed himself up into a sitting position with his good arm, shaking from a combination of pain, effort and fever. He felt incredibly dizzy and his head pounded in time to his pulse. Legolas hunched forward, trying to get his breath, but for some distressing reason, he could only inhale shallowly. His only explanation for this was that the knife had punctured his lung, which would account for why he was coughing up blood. This was bad; he could drown in his own blood!

oXo

The orc spotted the bandages on Legolas' shoulder through the hole in the elf's clothing. "Take yer shirt off!" he barked, indicating the tunic. The creature could see the blood oozing through the bandages, and knew what trouble he'd be in if he overlooked an injury, especially one as serious as this one looked.

Legolas struggled weakly with the tunic, but the orc grew impatient and ripped first tunic and then shirt off him, making the elf bite his lip to avoid crying out for the pain. The creature deliberately peeled the bandages off slowly, knowing how they would stick to the wound and cause agony.

Legolas took in his breath and tried to touch the injury, but the orc smacked his hand hard, so that it stung.

"Keep still, ye son of a bitch!"

The elf responded to this by driving his elbow into the creature's stomach. He jarred himself horribly, but it was worth it – the orc yelped, winded. But then he snarled and raised his fist. _Uh oh…_thought Legolas, but just as the orc was about to bring his fist smashing down on his head, the big Uruk stood threateningly, and the much smaller orc quailed under his fierce stare. The Uruk glared at elf and orc and sat down again. He pulled out his blade and prepared to cut off the hand of an orc with an infected wound. Another orc stood nearby, ready to press a red hot poker to the stump to stop the bleeding.

_Oh, please, no!_ Thought Legolas, _If this is how they tend to their injured…I value my arm! _

_CHOP_! The orc squealed as the blade came down, and then again as the poker was pressed to the stump.

_Ugh!_ Though he had seen far worse in battle, Legolas looked away, sickened. He shuddered involuntarily, making the orc sitting beside him, who had been watching the amputation eagerly, laugh.

"Not how yer pretty little elves do it, eh, King? No, here if ye get a bad wound, we simply lop it off! 'An if it's yer head, well…then everyone else gets extra meat, if ye get me? Hahahahahaha!" The orc found the last part uproariously funny.

"Get…away from…me." Legolas was disgusted.

"No, I've bin given instructions, 'an I intend to carry 'em out!" The orc pulled out a needle, thread, and bandages. The needle was thick and blunt and looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in an age, the thread was stained with a black liquid, probably orc blood, and the 'bandages' were old, tattered scraps of clothing.

"If you…think you're…going to…touch me with…any of those…" Legolas began, but the orc cut him off.

"Ag, shut up! Watch this!" The creature made sure the big orc was tending the orc, and then he suddenly rammed the needle right into the centre of Legolas' wound and quickly withdrew it again. "I just did!"

The elf nearly bit right into his lip to stop himself from crying out – it felt as if the needle was a red hot poker. He cursed the orc with a string of words he didn't even know he knew, let alone where he'd _learned_ them. Must be Aragorn. _Oh, Aragorn, where are you now?_ Legolas wondered.

The orc snickered and cuffed him over the back of the head. "Naughty, naughty!" he mocked, "Didn't yer pretty elfie mommy ever teach ye not ter say those words?"

"Shut the…hell and…finish your…evil business!" Legolas snarled, "I'll use the…language of my…choice!"

"Tsk tsk," the orc clicked his tongue and shock his head in mock sadness before jabbing Legolas cruelly with the needle again," There we go with those bad words again! Dear me!"

oXo

Legolas grunted. His wound burned where the orc had stuck him with the needle.

"Are ye finished there yet, _snaga_?" The Uruk made as if to stand up again.

"Trying my best, Master!" the orc whined, "But ye see, the elf punched me in the face and strangled me---!"

"I don't think e's in any position to do either, now get on with it, before _I _do those things to ye, 'an more!" The Uruk punched his palm and flexed his thick fingers.

The orc hissed, but when the Uruk-hai roared at him, he quickly threaded his needle, sucking on the thread to get it through the eye. "Err, yes Master, right away, Master!" He began to sew up Legolas' shoulder without even removing the old stitches. The creature slipped often, stabbing his needle into the elf. He could feel the Uruk's eye's boring into his back, and it was making him nervous, and his hands clumsy. He tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation and concentrate on his work.

oXo

The orc finished stitching and ended off the thread by making three quick, tight backstitches. Legolas wondered why this was necessary. It probably wasn't. Aragorn hadn't done it. The orc probably just wanted to torture him as much as possible. Aragorn had also sterilized his needle first (it had been a lot thinner and sharper than this one too). The orc had done the opposite, but what was to be expected?

oXo

The Uruk suddenly turned his stare to a pair of squabbling orcs, and in the split second that he was unsupervised, the orc beside Legolas whipped a bottle of yellowish liquid out of a leather pouch at his waist, and, unseen to the elf, put a few drops onto the bandages, a horrible sneer on his features. He quickly shoved it back into the pouch again and started fiddling with the bandages, just as the Uruk turned around, but he had seen nothing.

"Well, go on, or must I come over there!"

"No, Master," The orc's voice had a strange mocking tone to it, but the Uruk didn't seem to pick it up, or if he did, he chose to ignore it, "I'm doing it, with pleasure!" He even attempted a smile, but it looked more like a pained grimace.

The Uruk-hai snorted. "Well, see that ye do. I'm still watching ye."

"Of course, of course!" The orc pulled Legolas' arm out from where he was holding it at his side and bandaged it, carefully choosing the particular section of bandage to place over the wound, sniggering quietly to himself all the while. He put the elf's tunic and shirt back on when he was finished, and Legolas immediately pulled away once this was done. The wound hurt horribly.

"That's...it," he said, "That's all…you can…do for me…there are…no more…injuries…"

"What about a 'thank you?'" The orc leant in close, and Legolas could smell his decayed breath.

"Creature of…darkness!" the elf spat, "If I were stronger…I would…slay you! You and…all of your…foul kin!"

The orc guffawed. "Maybe so, but you're not so strong anymore!" He looked over at the Uruk. "Master, what more must I do?"

"Check 'im over." The Uruk-hai got up and walked over, "The Master won't like it if we bring him the Elvenking 'an 'e's dyin' of some mortal wound that yer poor eyes 'an clumsy fingers missed. You can't get much outta someone whose dyin', ye know! Hahahahaha!"

"Hahaha! Aye aye, sir!" The orc still seemed positively delighted with himself, ignoring the other's insult, and cackling along with the joke instead.

"Make 'im get up 'an see 'ow 'e walks. 'E fell from an orse with a knife in 'is chest. 'E may 'ave broken 'is back, in which case 'e won't be able to go anywhere, haha."

"Then 'e wouldn't be sittin' up," the orc pointed out.

The Uruk roared at him, baring long, pointed fangs, yellowed and rotting. "Just shut up 'an don't argue! Anyway, he's not! He's slumped forward, you scumbag!"

oXo

The orc's good mood was rapidly vanishing, but he knew better than to start a fight with an Uruk three times his size. He sat still and looked daggers at the Uruk, hissing venomously to himself.

"Well, _snaga_! Didn't ye hear me!" The Uruk kicked the orc in the small of his back, "I said get that elf up! _Or aren't ye strong enough_!" he jeered.

The orc growled, rubbing his back. "Strong enough! I could rip that Elvenking's pathetic blonde head off 'is neck with one hand!"

"Oh, I'd _love_ ter see that, _snaga_, but I'm afraid I can't allow yer ter do that."

"Well, can I try 'is finger then? 'E doesn't need that!"

"NO, ye bastard!" The Uruk-hai gave the orc a resounding slap through the face, making him yell.

"Ow ow ow! I get the message, Master!" the orc whimpered, "I get the message! No need ter lose yer temper like that!"

"Get outta my sight, ye maggot!" The Uruk kicked him across the cave floor.

"Yessir yessir!" The orc picked himself up and began repacking his bags.

"Did I tell ye ter do that?" The Uruk asked him, his yellow eyes narrowed and a dangerous note in his voice.

"Err, n-n-no, Master!" The orc dropped what he was doing and scuttled into a dark corner. The Uruk-hai sent a loose rock after him, and was satisfied by a howl as the stone hit its mark.

oXo

The Uruk turned his attention to Legolas. "Up! On yer feet!" he ordered, "Come on, get!"

The elf ignored him.

"I said 'get up', ye bastard, or are ye deaf?" The Uruk grabbed Legolas by his uninjured arm and yanked him up. The young elf staggered backwards, dizzy, sick, and in horrible pain, and grabbed the cave wall, grazing his hand, trying to keep the weight off his ankle, but at the same time hide the injury. He certainly did not want these creatures messing with it.

"Get away from that wall," growled the Uruk-hai, "'an walk! Now, or else it's playtime!"

oXo

Legolas had no choice. Keeping one hand on the rock, the elf cautiously put his injured foot forward, but he couldn't even touch it on the ground – the pain was too intense.

"MOVE!" came the shout from the impatient Uruk, "Walk! Both feet on the ground!"

Legolas took as deep a breath as he could, gritted his teeth, and put his foot down, transferring some of his weight to it. A blinding pain shot up his leg and into his hip, and then his ankle twisted limply inwards and he fell to his knees, biting his lip hard.

"Aha, so ye can't walk, eh, Elvenking? Let's see that ankle. The White Wizard will kill me if ye die for some reason when we could've prevented it."

"...He's…welcome…to…kill…you!...Back…off!...I…don't…need…your…help!" Legolas was completely out of breath. A bout of coughing suddenly took him, and by the time he had managed to suppress it, his hand was blood spattered, and worse, there was more blood than last time.

"Ugh! Must be 'bloody' unpleasant, if you get my – haha, my meaning! Hahahaha!" The Uruk roared with laughter at his own 'joke'.

oXo

Legolas wiped his mouth and cleaned the blood from his hands on the rough rock of the cave wall. He eased himself into a more comfortable position. _Oh, where is Aragorn?_ He thought desperately, _Without him, I'll die! Did Nienor get back?_ He had a chilling thought. _What if there are more of those foul creatures about, and they've got Aragorn and Árë too! What if they're ---! No, I mustn't think these thoughts! Aragorn and Árë are fine! They're probably on their way here right now! Yes!_ Legolas stifled a groan and clutched his ankle, which seemed to be throbbing in time to his pulse.

oXo

The Uruk-hai came over and stretched out a grubby arm, intending to drag Legolas away from the cave wall, but the elf was anticipating it, and lashed out with his good arm. It was a weak punch, but, as the Uruk wasn't expecting it, he was hit in the face. The beast doubled over, clutching its bleeding face – even in his severely weakened state, Legolas still had the strength to make it hurt.

"Ye little bastard!" the Uruk growled, "Ye know what! I think I'm just gonna kill ye right now 'an tell the Master we never found ye! Yeah!" He pulled out a knife, licked his finger, and ran it up and down the blade. "Now why didn't I do that long ago!"

"'Cause yer ter stupid, 'an if yer try it now, yer won't live ter tell the tale!" A large Uruk holding a much fiercer knife stepped forward, and Legolas recognized him as his captor, "I'll personally see ter that!"

"Oh yeah?" the other challenged.

"Oh _yeah_!" the second Uruk-hai, who happened to be bigger than the first, jumped forward, dodged the other's thrust, and plunged his dagger deep into his opponent's heart.

The dying Uruk's face twitched, and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he toppled like a ninepin.

The victor grunted and pulled his knife from the body, licking it to clean it. He seemed to savour the taste of the blood. "Now why would I be a fool and kill ye, Elvenking?" he said, "At least, not yet…Oh, no!" The Uruk-hai kicked the other's body scornfully, "I'm not stupid like he was! The Master promised to reward me handsomely for yer capture! I'm goin' ter make sure ye get ter Isengard alive 'an in fit condition ter speak! Now let _me_ fix yer ankle!"

"…No!"

"I don't want ter fight with you, elf, but believe me, I will, because I want my reward, and if I do, I will hurt ye."

"…No," Legolas repeated, and curled up defensively.

The Uruk rolled his eyes. "I am losing my patience, Elvenking!"

"…Go ahead!"

The Uruk-hai roared with rage and raised his knife, but seemed to reconsider. "Don't ye speak ter me like that again!" He licked the blade and spat on the floor.

Legolas was silent. Perhaps it would be wise to guard his tongue for now and not anger the creature if he was planning on surviving this.

oXo

"Yer irritatin' me, Elvenking! Do ye honestly think yer strong enough ter put up a fight?" The Uruk grabbed Legolas and dragged him, struggling feebly, away from the wall, to the bag that the orc had left behind. "Now," he said, releasing the elf, who was busy holding back a coughing fit, "Let's see that ankle – at last1 I honestly don't know what all the fuss is about! It's not like I'm planning on killing you…right now!" The Uruk gave an evil grin, showing his decayed teeth. He quickly grabbed Legolas' raised fist with one hand, and threw his heavy leg over Legolas' good one, which was bent, ready to kick out. "No tricks, elf!" he snarled, "Ye hear me!"

Legolas glared at him and tried to get his fist free, but it was held in a vicelike grip, and sharp nails were digging into his wrist.

The Uruk-hai yanked off the Legolas' boot, and the elf gasped as his broken and dislocated ankle twisted cruelly, the dislocated joint scraping against raw bone.

"Painful, eh?" the Uruk chuckled.

"Release me!"

"Hey, you!" The Uruk-hai ignored Legolas, calling to the orc that had tended the elf earlier, "Ye can come back now, ye little maggot! I need yer!"

"Yer not my master," the orc muttered sulkily, as he shuffled over.

"What was that! Speak up! I'm afraid I didn't hear yer!" The Uruk leant closer with a malicious look on his face.

"I said, 'Yer my master now!'"

"That's more like it! Not that I'd really want yer…make good eating perhaps!" the Uruk-hai guffawed.

"Eating!"

"Nah – yer ter dirty, and ye smell. Suppose we could always wash ye – ter much trouble though. Looks like I'm stuck with you, ye scumbag. Well, get ter work, and look sharp – I just saved your life, see? I'm holding the elf down – he has a tendency ter kick and punch, so I want ye ter fix 'is ankle."

"Is that how ye got that bloody nose? Did 'e punch ye?"

"Shut up! I want ye ter fix 'is ankle, understand me?"

"Yeah." The orc absently stuck his finger up his nose, earning him a slap from his new owner.

"I said fix the elf, not pick yer nose, ye bloody idiot! You're the doctor around 'ere, so do it!"

"Glad ter see ye can acknowledge that! Ye should respect me fer it too! Remember the time when I saved you because that stupid warg of yers ---!"

"SHUT UP!"

"Ye would have died then if it 'adn't bin' fer me!" the orc continued proudly.

The Uruk yanked his ear hard, digging his nails into the skin. "DO IT!"

"OW OW OW! I am I am!" The orc pulled off Legolas' left boot.

"I wouldn't respect ye if my bloody life depended upon it!" the Uruk growled, "I would have bin' perfectly alright without ye --- IT'S THE RIGHT FOOT, YOU MORON! Can't ye see I've taken the boot off already!"

"Didn't know ye were capable of such a task…" the orc muttered.

"I'm sorry, but I tend to go just a wee bit deaf around ye…"

"I saa-aaiiid, 'I'm starting now!" The orc began grabbing 'bandages' out his bag.

"I thought so, _snaga_."

"Stop calling me that! I don't like it! My name's ---!"

"I don't give a damn what your name is, now get to work!"

"Yes, _master_." The orc picked up Legolas' black and blue right foot. The elf's ankle was swollen to about twice its original size, and every time the orc moved it, it flopped into an abnormal (and excruciatingly painful) position. By the time the orc was finished 'examining' Legolas' foot, the elf's face was white with pain, and he had begun to sweat and shake.

oXo

"Irreparable!" The orc was delighted, "We'll have to chop it off!"

Legolas pulled his ankle back, horrified. Fortunately, he was rescued.

"No, we won't!" growled the Uruk, "Ye'll do nothing of the sort! You'll bandage it, and that will do! I'm no doctor, curse them, but even I can see that this is no serious injury that requires amputation!"

"Err, right ye are…" The orc grabbed Legolas' foot, bandaged it much too tightly and forced the elf's boot back on. He put the other boot back on and announced, "There, done!"

"Finally, now get outta my sight before I lose my temper, because you really are an insufferable little bastard, aren't you!"

The orc muttered something, packed up his bags, and took the hint.

oXo

The Uruk-hai released Legolas, and the elf landed it a second punch in the face, breaking its nose. The Uruk bellowed and hit back. Legolas said nothing, only put a hand to his cut forehead and glared venomously at the Uruk. The beast growled and stomped off, thick drops of black blood dripping from between his fingers and onto the floor.

oXo

Legolas gritted his teeth and crawled on his good hand and knees back to the cave wall. His chest was burning and he could barely breathe by the time he reached his destination. The elf sat back against the wall with his cloak wrapped around him for warmth, as he was shivering violently, and he felt _so_ cold. His whole body ached too from the fever, and the pain from his injuries was nearly overwhelming. Legolas could also feel the poison at work, as he felt sick, and he had a massive headache. Groaning, he tipped his pounding head forward and closed his eyes, pulling his cloak closer about him. Despite his immense discomfort, a fitful sleep at last arrived to claim him, and he no longer had to endure the pain.

TBC

_A/N: Looooong Chapter:) Hope you guys liked it! I tried my best get the orcs and Uruks in character, and to get their speech right. Hope I didn't mess up there:( Anyway, I hope to update soon, like this week or next weekend, but no later, as my Internet is fixed now! YAY! I hope that will NEVER happen again, but if I don't update in a while, know that I have either been banned from computer (my mom's fave. Punishment is to take my flat screen monitor away, 'cause it's so light!) or that my Internet is down! We are also having frequent power failures, so that could also be it.:( So don't dump me! By the way, if you review me, I review you! _

_Namárië,_

_Windsong of Darkness_


	13. An Unlikely Hero, Or Heroine?

_A/N: Here's chapter fourteen – sorry if it's a bit short! Invisigoth3 – you are an absolute star:) I panicked when I couldn't update. I thought that reviewers would dump me, but no, they are still here! Thanks:) _

Chapter Thirteen

Aragorn and Árë found the cave at dawn. It was hidden, tucked away on the slopes of the Misty Mountains. Nienor had come to a halt, shuddering, about an hour after they had set off. Aragorn had dismounted and found Uruk and Warg tracks and the signs of a struggle, as well as Nienor's hoofprints – it was the scene of Legolas' attack. From the tracks it was obvious that the Uruk had taken Legolas, alive or dead they did not know, and that the Uruk had ridden the Warg. Both Árë and Aragorn thought this very strange, but they got on their horses and prepared to track the beast, as Aragorn's heart told him that Legolas was alive, and he was determined to live up to his name and have hope, no matter how frail it was.

It had been difficult to get Nienor to go on, but once that had been achieved, tracking their quarry had been relatively easy, and the tracks had led them straight to the cave.

"I'm pretty sure he's in there," Aragorn whispered to Árë, pointing into the cave mouth.

The she-elf nodded. "Yes, but first we must get past that Warg." Árë was right – the large shaggy beast was tied to a boulder near the entrance, guarding the way. It had its back to them, and appeared to be asleep, but it still emanated menace, and was a tricky obstacle.

Aragorn and Árë dismounted and tied Roheryn and Nienor to a tree, a good distance away from the cave. The horses were beginning to whicker nervously, so Aragorn petted them gently, fearing that they would wake the Warg.

"Stille, sshh…" he said, and then turned to Árë. "Can you fight?" he asked. Mistake.

The she-elf cast the Ranger such an icy look that it very nearly made him wince. He had clearly offended her.

"Well then, take these," Aragorn handed her Legolas' two White Knives.

She took them, and then said, "Prepare for battle, Aragorn, because once I've done what I'm about to do, every single creature in that cave will know about us, be it one or ten score, and we'll be in the thick of things. There will be no room for error."

Aragorn whipped out his sword. "What are you going to ---!"

"You'll see." Árë raised a knife to eye level.

"Err," said Aragorn.

Árë lowered the weapon impatiently. "What is it?"

"I'm, err, I'm…I'm sorry I offended you," the Ranger apologised, "I did not mean it that way."

Árë suddenly smiled at him, and she meant it too. "Apology accepted," she said graciously.

"No hard feelings then?"

"No hard feelings." Árë raised the knife again, "Ready?"

"Uh huh." Aragorn tightened his grip on his blade.

"Then watch this!" The she-elf took aim and then she suddenly flung the knife straight into the back of the slumbering Warg's skull, killing it instantly.

Aragorn whistled. "Nice one."

"Wait for it." Árë was tense, gripping the other knife tightly, "I can hear a lot of them in there!"

Suddenly there were shouts and cries, and most of the orcs and Uruks came stampeding out, waving their weapons. They outnumbered Aragorn and Árë ten to one. Nonetheless, Ranger and she-elf rushed to meet them.

"ELENDIL!" roared Aragorn, "ELENDIIIIIIIIIIIIL!"

oXo

The noise woke Legolas, and the elf's heart leapt. Where his ears deceiving him or had he just heard the name of Elendil, Aragorn's warcry? No! There it was again! Loud and clear! If he hadn't been in such a bad way, Legolas would have laughed for joy. He squinted out of the cave mouth as the orcs rushed out. The Warg was dead in centre of the path, and many of the orcs and Uruks were jumping over the body in their hurry. Imbedded in it's neck was an elven White Knife, and when Legolas recognised it to be his, he felt certain that Aragorn and Árë were here to…save him. He hated that word, 'save'. Only someone who was incapable, or an elfling, was 'saved'. Right now, though, he qualified as incapable.

"Aragorn!" he called, as loudly as he could manage, "...Árë! I'm in…here!" _My voice is too weak_, he thought grimly,_ No-one can hear me!_ There was only one thing to do. Gritting his teeth and clinging tightly to the cave wall, Legolas awkwardly got to his feet, moaning in pain, and then doing his best to shut it off. Hoping that no-one would notice him in the current chaos, he pulled his elven cloak over his head. With luck it would work its magic and camouflage him against the rock. The elf began to shuffle along on one leg, groping his way along the wall. Suddenly he came out into sunlight and noise, and before he had a chance to remove the blinding cloak, his support was gone, and he toppled. Instead of falling on hard ground, however, the elf was met with the soft flank of a horse. It still hurt, but the pain was bearable, and Legolas pulled the cloak off himself, leaning on the horse. He found himself staring into Nienor's warm amber eyes. The little mare had heard him after all and had pulled free of her ties to come to his aid. Legolas grinned. Despite all the fighting going on around her, Nienor surprised Legolas by slowly going down onto her knees. The elf knelt too; standing up was tiring him. Nienor whickered, and Legolas understood that he should climb on her back. He attempted this, but he was unable to on account of his injuries, so Nienor gently helped him up with her nose. Legolas gripped her mane tightly. As the little mare got to her feet, she gave a long, loud neigh that almost sounded victorious.

oXo

Aragorn, about to stab an orc, looked up at the sound, distracted, and got the stab himself in the right upper arm. Deep. The Ranger yelled, came back to reality, and plunged his blade deep into the creature's heart, ignoring his pain. He'd have to clean this as soon as possible – the wound was most likely poisoned, and if it wasn't, it would get infected very easily. _Wait – there is no need to finish this fight!_ Aragorn suddenly realized, and his heart leapt despite the blood pouring down his arm. _Legolas is out of the cave. We just have to make a break for it! We can fight our way to Roheryn and go – Nienor will surely follow!_ Getting Árë's attention, Aragorn motioned towards Roheryn with his head and began to fight his way towards his horse. Nienor followed them, pushing through the evil creatures, oblivious to the many small injuries she was receiving. Legolas clung weakly to her back, grateful for the harness.

oXo

Aragorn and Árë reached Roheryn and the Ranger untied him. The two vaulted on, and Aragorn checked to make sure that Nienor was behind them and alert. "Noro lim," he cried out, slapping the reins on Roheryn's neck, "Noro lim, Roheryn!" The stallion took off at a gallop. Nienor heard the command too, and the little mare ran as she had never ran before, yet still keeping her stride even. She seemed to know what would happen if she should let her fragile rider fall. One of the Uruks bellowed something after Legolas. It was the one who had assisted in 'seeing to' his injuries. He had blood pouring down his body from a fatal wound to the chest. The elf just caught the words.

"Ye won't get far, elf! No one's coming after ye, but yer in fer a rough night…if ye survive it…hahaha!" He threw his head back and laughed maniacally before crumpling to the ground, dead.

oXo

_What did he mean?_ Legolas wondered. Árë and Aragorn were a good deal ahead of him, and they had shown no response, so he didn't think they had heard. The elf was still clutching his cloak, and so he placed it on Nienor's neck and wrapped his arms around her. He put his head down on the cloak and closed his eyes, and due to his raging fever, was soon fast asleep for the second time that day.

oXo

_A/N: Well, what did you think? Review and tell me. Lol, am I right in thinking that you are getting fond of Nienor :) I know I am! She has become her own character, and is now writing her own parts – you know how a character can do that? I won't kill her, promise :) Chapter fourteen coming soon!_


	14. The Calm Before The Storm

_A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you to all my reviewers, I have picked up some new ones…:0 YAAAAAY, 0: this calls for a party!…Err, right, never mind me, I'm like that when I get hyper, which is A LOT. Well, here is Ch15, as promised. Guess what? It's called 'The Calm Before The Storm' Hmmm, WHY? Secret ;) You'll see next chapter! (Or the end of this one!) ;) By the way, I'm writing a cute fic called Revenge Of The Hobbits - you might want to check that out. Well, on with ch15!_

Chapter Fourteen

"Legolas!" The elf was aware of someone gently lifting him down from Nienor's back. "Legolas, mellon nin, are you awake?"

"Uh…?" The young elf's eyes fluttered open and he found himself looking into the worried face of Aragorn. The Ranger's face split into a grin. Looking past him, Legolas saw Árë, her fair features marred with worry as she watched him.

oXo

They were beside a river and a grove of trees, a pleasant spot where waterskins could be refilled and the horses could drink. The trees would also provide welcome shade.

"Lay his bedroll under that tree," said Aragorn to Árë, pointing. The she-elf hastened to do the Ranger's bidding, taking the bedroll down from Roheryn's saddle. The horses shuffled down to the river to drink, thoroughly exhausted by their run, for they had nearly gone all the way to where the Celebrant met the Nimrodel. The river they were on was the Celebrant and it was midday.

oXo

Árë carefully laid down the bedroll and Aragorn settled Legolas on it, laying the elf on his right side. Legolas winced. Seeing the bloody hole in the front of the elf's tunic, Aragorn stripped him of all but his leggings, frowning at the medical treatment. Árë kept giving gasps of horror at his condition, until Aragorn wanted to tell her to see to the horses, but he needed her. Legolas had yet to utter a word, and he surprised them both by saying,

"Aragorn…you should…Ai! You should…do something about your…arm …You've lost a lot of…" the elf hissed softly as Aragorn removed his left boot, "…blood." It was true – the Ranger's entire right arm, from the wound right down to his fingertips, was covered in blood, some dried already, but the injury was still oozing blood.

Aragorn glanced down at it. It hurt, but not too badly, so perhaps it wasn't poisoned after all. Surely it could be left a little longer – at least until Legolas had been seen to. "It will wait," he told the elf, "I fare a lot better than you, mellon nin."

"I'm…fine," Legolas whispered, "Just need some…rest."

Aragorn snorted in disbelief. "No you're not! I gather that the orcs enjoyed 'doctoring' you?"

"Aye," Legolas answered with a grim smile, and then, "They wanted…some information from me…Took me for my…father…Don't know…what they…wanted…" The elf was getting very short of breath.

"Shh, save your breath." It hurt Aragorn to see his best friend suffer like this, "I'm going to get the bandage off now – it might hurt."

Legolas nodded, so Aragorn quickly whipped the filthy bandage off the elf's chest.

Legolas gasped, which triggered a coughing fit.

Aragorn gently but quickly pulled him upright and supported him against his chest, and Árë took his hand. When it was over, Aragorn was not surprised to see blood dribbling down the Mirkwood Prince's chin. All the same, it both terrified and horrified him. He had hoped that the wound had not been that serious.

Árë too got a fright. "Legolas!" she cried, distraught.

"Shh, it's alright, Árë," said Aragorn, "He'll be fine. Stay calm." He tried not to betray any of his emotions in his voice. It would only frighten Árë, and much worse – Legolas. Aragorn wanted him as calm as possible, as movement would aggravate his condition.

The she-elf nodded, though she was breathing much too fast. "Legolas," she moaned.

"Árë," said Aragorn gently, "I need you to fetch me my pack, alright? Can you do that?"

The she-elf jumped up. "Your pack! Of course! Oh! It's still on Roheryn!" Árë ran to catch the horse, her pale blonde hair flying as she ran. She was aptly named Árë, meaning Sunlight.

oXo

"Aragorn! Aragorn! Here!" Árë came sprinting back and frantically thrust Aragorn's pack at him.

"Árë!" Aragorn exclaimed, "Calm down!" He took her hand. "Panicking isn't going to help anything, okay?"

The she-elf nodded, biting her lip.

"Why don't you make a fire?" the Ranger suggested, "I'm going to need it."

Árë nodded again and set about gathering fuel, glancing back at Legolas every few seconds to check on him. She soon had a good fire burning.

"Hannon le," Aragorn thanked her. He opened his healers' bag and took out some herbs. The Ranger handed Legolas over to Árë and heated some water in a pot over the fire. Adding the herbs, he quickly made up a healing salve which he put into the wooden bowl. The Ranger quickly made the short trip to the river to wash his hands, and then he came back and began to rub the ointment between his palms to warm it. "I'm going to rub this on your injuries," he told Legolas, "It's a disinfectant. It will sting, but try to keep still. It's for the best."

Legolas nodded, so Aragorn began to spread it over his chest wound, making the elf gasp, which turned into a cough as his injured lung protested. Árë stroked his hair comfortingly, unsure of what to do in a situation like this.

oXo

Every time Legolas coughed, violent, stabbing pains shot through his right lung. The coughing spell lasted a while, and the elf's head was spinning by the time the spasms finally abated. He had coughed up a fair amount of blood too, which suggested that he was still bleeding, if only slowly, else he would have drowned in his own blood by now.

oXo

Aragorn took a cloth from his healers' bag and gently cleaned the blood from the elf's face. Árë began to lower him, but the Ranger shook his head. He placed his pack behind the injured elf's back. "He needs to be kept in a slightly raised position," he explained, "It will aid his breathing."

Árë nodded and carefully put Legolas down.

The elf closed his eyes and groaned softy.

oXo

Aragorn quickly felt Legolas' forehead for fever. It was alarmingly high. The elf's next dose of medication was a long time overdue.

"Árë, I need you to take over for a minute."

The she-elf nodded and began to rub the salve into Legolas' wound, wincing as it made him groan. She hated causing him pain like this, but it had to be done.

oXo

Working as fast as he could, Aragorn made up the antidote in the cup and knelt beside Legolas.

"Legolas, mellon nin," he said gently, "you need to drink this."

The elf opened his eyes and held out a shaky hand.

Aragorn passed it to him, but he spilled so much that the Ranger had to help him. "That will make you feel a bit better," said Aragorn, "I added something in there for the pain, and there is also an herb that helps with bleeding."

Legolas nodded. He didn't even complain about the vile taste of the medicine, but he still croaked, "I'm…fine…"

"Come on, Legolas, you and I both know you're far from that!" Aragorn protested.

Legolas didn't answer him, but his eyes were glazed over, suggesting that the Ranger was right. He closed them again.

"But," Aragorn added, "you are going to _be_ fine!"

Árë nodded, busy with her work, "Just fine." She didn't look so sure though.

oXo

"Aragorn?" Árë asked a few minutes later, "Have I done this correctly?"

The Ranger took a look at Legolas' wound. "Couldn't have done it better myself." He patted her arm reassuringly. "Árë, he's going to be just fine, alright?"

The she-elf nodded without looking at him.

"Hannon le," said Aragorn, "It's done."

Árë moved aside and Aragorn quickly stitched and bandaged the wound.

"Legolas," said the Ranger, "I've got to tend to your other injuries, starting with your shoulder, alright?"

The elf murmured something in reply without opening his eyes and Aragorn carefully brought him into a sitting position. Árë supported him like this while the Ranger removed the grubby bandages, in his hurry bypassing a yellowish liquid on them. He winced. The wound still bled slightly and it had been carelessly re-stitched; the awkward stitches pulled much too tight. There was pus oozing from it too, suggesting that the wound was infected. That could get serious. Once more, Aragorn took out his small knife and sterilized it in the fire. He used it to carefully unpick every last stitch, old and new. Legolas tried hard not to cry out – his chest hurt enough already.

oXo

Aragorn finished unpicking the stitches and pulled them out. Then he thoroughly cleaned the wound, re-stitched it, and bandaged it. The Ranger noticed that Legolas' wrist was swollen, and so he gently lifted it.

The elf winced and muttered, "Sprain…"

Aragorn felt his wrist for a moment and then agreed. "Aye, but it will still need bandaging. A sprain can very easily become a break." The Ranger cut a section of bandage from a roll and wrapped it tightly around Legolas' wrist, though not so tight as the blood supply would be cut off. Then he moved to the elf's ankle, gently easing off the boot and quickly stripping off the bandages, which had grown dangerously tight as the elf's ankle had swelled. "Sorry, Legolas, but I need to determine the extent of the damage." The Ranger took the elf's foot in his hands and tried to move it, but Legolas' eyes snapped open and he yelped, shaking his head violently, and crying out,

"No…no…no!"

"Alright, I'm sorry." Aragorn gently felt the injury instead, not wanting to trigger another coughing fit. "Broken," he soon concluded. Legolas glared at him as if to say 'As if I didn't know that already!' so the Ranger continued, "Badly, and it's dislocated too; that's why it's so painful." He used up the last of the bandages on Legolas' foot, strapping it tightly to immobilise it.

Árë didn't see this, and when the Ranger was done, and they had dressed Legolas again, leaving off his right boot and leather bracers, she lay Legolas down against the pack and said, "Now for your arm."

"Err, there aren't anymore bandages left," Aragorn replied.

"In my…pack," Legolas muttered through a haze of pain.

Both Árë and Aragorn got up at the same time to fetch it, each expecting the other to stay, but when she saw Aragorn up, Árë gave the Ranger a _look_ that said very plainly both 'Sit down, you're injured,' and 'watch Legolas!'

Sighing, the Ranger sat down again beside Legolas.

oXo

Árë came hurrying back with Legolas' pack, slightly more composed than she had been before.

Aragorn smiled at her.

The she-elf opened it and quickly found the roll of bandages, and Aragorn removed his shirt with some difficulty, as the wound hurt when raising his arm.

"You'll have to stitch it," he told Árë, handing her his needle.

She sterilized it and pinned it in her dress. First the wound had to be cleaned. Árë washed it out with some water and cleaned away the blood from the Ranger's arm. She rubbed on some of the ointment , muttering something about, "…Males…," and "…Careless fighters…"

"What was that?" Aragorn frowned teasingly.

"Oh, nothing." Árë finished and neatly bandaged and stitched the wound.

oXoXoXo

That evening, Aragorn and Árë sat by the campfire, eating cakes of lembas bread, and every now and then checking on Legolas. The elf had managed to eat a square of waybread, and shortly after he had dropped off. Aragorn had felt his forehead and discovered that it was fever free. He was also no longer coughing up blood – the herbs had done their work. Just to be sure, Aragorn had given him more, as well as something for pain and to suppress coughing – if Legolas coughed, he would possibly dislodge the blood clot and start the bleeding over again. It was the combination of different herbs that had put him to sleep.

oXo

The fire began to burn low, and Aragorn stretched, yawning. The yawn immediately turned into a wince – he had forgotten about his arm. The only sound was the rhythmic munching of the horses as they grazed on their picket lines and the occasional hiss of the coals. Somewhere in the dark, a cricket chirped. The moon was full, big and bright, and Aragorn and Árë sat gazing out at the pale moonscape in silence. Presently, the human said,

"Árë, I think you should get some sleep. I will keep watch over Legolas."

"No," the she-elf replied, "I couldn't do that to you. You are human; you need your rest more than I. Besides, you are injured and have lost blood. You must be exhausted."

"Well, then let us share the watch," said Aragorn stubbornly, though he wanted very much to go to sleep and not wake till late the next day, "I will wake you when it is your turn. Go, sleep. Take my things – I shall sit against Roheryn's saddle with my cloak wrapped around me."

Árë looked horrified at this last command – Aragorn pushed himself too far! "No, I could not!"

"Well, if you're not going to use them, no-one will."

Árë opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again and went to fetch the Ranger's bedroll and blanket from where the horses' tack lay in an untidy heap. She thoughtfully neatened it and then carried Aragorn's things back and settled by the fire. "Do not forget to wake me, Aragorn." And with that, she was asleep, her emerald green eyes gazing up at the stars. It had always intrigued Aragorn how elves slept like this. He had tried it himself once, when he had been very little, but with little success. He had only nearly dried his eyes out. Right now Legolas was unable to sleep in this manner, as when sick or injured, elves were forced to sleep with their eyes shut. Thankfully elves were skilled fighters, well able to defend themselves, and they only became sick if they were poisoned.

oXo

Aragorn fetched Roheryn's saddle and placed it beside Legolas. He leant back against it, cloak wrapped around himself, watching the sleeping elf. His presence obviously woke him, for Legolas' eyes slowly opened.

"…Aragorn?"

"Yes, Legolas?"

"Shouldn't you…be…asleep? There is…no need to…keep watch over me." _How did the elf know so much!_

"Yes, there is," Aragorn told him, "You are injured, severely enough to be sleeping with your eyes shut."

"Estel," said Legolas gently, "you and Árë…both need rest…I will be…fine!"

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Yes…I will!"

oXo

The two actually managed to argue over this for some time until Aragorn, yawning, eventually gave in. He moved the saddle even closer to Legolas and lay back against it. At least he would be woken if the elf needed help during the night. He closed his eyes, and within seconds, sleep arrived to claim him like a warm, fuzzy blanket, snuffing out his senses.

oXoXoXo

Aragorn was awakened late in the night. He sat up, unsure as to what had woken him. Then he realized that it had been Legolas, for the elf suddenly gave a soft groan, and it sounded like he was awake, and in pain. Quickly, the Ranger leant over and pulled back the blanket. Underneath, the young elf was curled into a tight ball, his good arm wrapped around his middle. He was trembling violently, every so often giving a sudden jerk. His eyes were squeezed shut. Aragorn's heart sank. He knew it had been a bad idea going to sleep! He felt Legolas' forehead. The elf was burning up with fever, but why? The drug should still be at work. The next dose was not due until morning.

"Legolas? Can you hear me?" Aragorn put a hand on the elf's good arm. Legolas flinched at his touch, opening his eyes. They were unfocused and distant. "Can you hear me?" Aragorn repeated.

Legolas didn't respond; he merely gazed confusedly at him.

"Legolas!"

TBC

_A/N: Well, .:evil grin:. that is where I leave you guys for now! Aren't I just so EVIL! What a cliffie, lol! (Me evil evil evil person ;) Bad bad bad) Anyway, what did you think? Keep those reviews coming. I might post ch15 Mon or Tues, as they are public holidays, but if I don't get round to it (it's going to be a loooong chapter), then it'll be Saturday :) .:runs from angry reviewers:. BUT I WILL TRY FOR MON/TUES! REMEMBER THAT! _

_-o-Windsong-o-_


	15. What's Wrong?

_A/N: Thank you to all my fantastic reviewers, old and new! Well, I said I might update Monday or Tuesday, and here it is lol! I'm just sorry it's so short - I thought it was longer, but then I realized I'd actually divided a ten page stretch into two chapters! Much easier to type:)_

Chapter Fifteen

"Legolas? Can you hear me?" Aragorn put a hand on the elf's good arm. Legolas flinched at his touch, opening his eyes. They were unfocused and distant. "Can you hear me?" Aragorn repeated.

Legolas didn't respond; he merely gazed confusedly at him.

"Legolas!"

The elf's lips tried to form a word, but he was unable to speak for pain. Instead, he shut his eyes again, curled himself even tighter, and unwrapped his arm from around his middle, then tightened his grip again as his pain intensified, moaning softly.

oXo

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Árë awoke, and guessing that Legolas had worsened, instantly looked in his direction. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Aragorn kneeling beside him. The she-elf was beside the Ranger in an instant.

"Aragorn, what is wrong?" she demanded, panic rising in her voice.

"Árë, I don't know!" the Ranger said truthfully. He decided not to tell her that he'd slept on his watch. Aragorn turned to Legolas again. "Legolas, mellon nin, I need to know what is wrong so that I can help you. Can you tell me?"

The elf shook his head, his eyes still closed.

"You don't have to speak," Aragorn told him, "Just show me."

Legolas nodded.

"Well, I already know one – you have a stomach ache?"

Nod.

"Is it a constant pain?"

Legolas nodded, and opened and closed his fist.

"A cramp too?"

The elf nodded.

"What else?"

Legolas tried to remove his hand from his middle, but he couldn't manage it, so instead he bent his bad arm at the elbow and slowly put his hand up to his throat.

"Sore throat?"

No.

"You have nausea?"

Legolas nodded.

"Bad?"

Another nod.

"You're not going to be sick now, are you?"

Legolas shook his head – no.

Aragorn relaxed. "Anything else?"

Legolas was still for a moment, and then he brought his hand up to his head.

"A headache?"

Yes.

Aragorn thought for a minute. The obvious cause was poison, but it wasn't from the arrow. It must have happened while the elf had been held captive. He was starting to get an idea of the type of poison too, and if he was right, he didn't have the antidote. A last question should do it.

"Legolas, are the cramps confined to your stomach – think carefully."

The elf immediately shook his head, and gasped when his arm suddenly twitched of it's own accord, confirming Aragorn's theory. Neurotoxic snake venom. It obviously had something added into it to delay the effects, otherwise the symptoms would have manifested much earlier. He doubted that Legolas had been bitten during the night.

"You weren't bitten by anything, were you?"

The elf shook his head. It was definitely orc poison then. This was bad! Aragorn swore loudly, making Árë jump. If Legolas didn't get the correct treatment soon, he would die, no doubt about it! _Lórien is close_, thought Aragorn, _we must make for the Golden Wood immediately!_ Then he had a nasty thought, _But can Legolas hold out that long!_

TBC

_A/N: Oh my gosh, another cliffie, sorry it's so short! Next chapter wil be longer, I promise! Review, as always!_


	16. Sick Leggy

16. Sick Leggy

_A/N: Thanks again to all my reviewers! Here is ch16…wow, this thing is getting to be an epic! You guys have already read past pg 100, and I've nearly written up to pg 190, and I'm still going:O_

Chapter Sixteen

"Árë," said Aragorn, getting up, "Lórien is only a few hours ride away. Right now, Legolas' life depends on us getting him there." He turned and began to pack up camp. Árë looked horrified as she sprang up to help him.

"But you said---!" Árë panicked.

"Alright, so I was wrong!" Aragorn was on the verge of panic himself.

oXo

It took the two mere minutes to finish the job. Árë put Roheryn's saddle on Nienor, as Aragorn and Legolas were going to ride the elven horse, the faster and more trustworthy of the two, with only the harness and his bridle so that he would be able to go even faster without the added weight of the saddle. Árë was to catch them up in Lórien if Nienor couldn't keep up.

oXo

Strangely, Nienor didn't refuse the saddle, merely kicking at her belly as Árë tightened the girth. The she-elf slipped the mare's rope bridle on and loaded on their possessions. Again, Nienor didn't protest. She seemed to know the seriousness of the situation. Meanwhile, Aragorn had readied Roheryn; and now all that remained was to get Legolas onto him. Both Ranger and she-elf went quickly to his side.

oXo

"Legolas, we're going to Lórien; _now_," Aragorn told him. The elf opened his eyes. "I need you to relax so that I can pick you up," the Ranger continued. Legolas shook his head and clutched his stomach harder.

"…Can't," he whispered, and swallowed hard, as if trying to force something down. His voice was faint and weak.

"Legolas, melleth nin, you have to try, please!" Árë gently touched his cheek.

"Yes, Legolas, _please_!" Aragorn put a hand on the elf's forehead and discovered that his fever had risen. Legolas looked at them both for a long time, as if trying to comprehend what they were saying, and then he shut his eyes tightly and slowly straightened himself out, removing his arm from his middle. "That's it!" Aragorn turned him so that he was nearly on his back, but not quite, so as not to pressurise his shoulder, and then he gently slipped one arm under the elf's back and the other behind his knees and lifted him. The Ranger's arm protested, but he ignored it and began walking quickly towards Roheryn, resisting the urge to run, as he knew how it would hurt his friend. He walked so fast that Árë almost had to jog to keep up with him.

oXo

When they were halfway there, Legolas suddenly made an odd choking sound, and Aragorn realized just in time that the elf was about to be ill. The Ranger quickly lowered him and supported him on hands and knees, where he was violently sick. The Ranger held his hair back with one hand and supported him with the other.

"I'm going to get Roheryn!" Árë hurried off. When it was over, Aragorn asked Legolas,

"Feeling any better now? Usually that helps." Legolas' stomach was still churning, but the pain had lessened dramatically.

"Aye…some." But then the cramps came back with renewed intensity, and he would have collapsed if Aragorn had not been holding him. "But not…much!" He screwed up his face in pain, "Oh! I should not have…eaten that…lembas! Must've been…something in it…" The elf was slurring his words badly.

"No, it's definitely not that," Aragorn assured him, "Árë and I both had it – I even had the other half of your piece, and I'm fine. It's orc poison – there, just look at how your hand twitched like that! You didn't move it, did you?"

"N-no!" Frightened now, Legolas shook his head and glanced down at his hand, but it was still now.

"And your speech is ---" Aragorn was interrupted by the arrival of Árë and Roheryn. "Thank Vala, we must go! Legolas, now if you could just lie down again, it will make lifting you up easier. Do you need help?"

Legolas shook his head and got down carefully and Aragorn gently picked him up.

"I'll take him while you get on," Árë offered.

"Thanks." Aragorn handed his burden over. Árë took a handkerchief from her pocket and cleaned up Legolas' face.

"Man mathach?" she asked him. _How do you feel?_

"I'm…tríwe…" Legolas wouldn't meet her eyes. _I'm fine. _Árë fixed him with that 'I know all' look of hers. "Flae," he admitted. _Sick._

"Árë," came Aragorn's voice.

"Oh, Legolas! No ce ammaer ab lû thent!" _May you be better soon!_ Árë kissed Legolas' pale cheek. "Im gosta an le, Legolas." _I'm afraid for you, Legolas._

"Árë!" Aragorn was getting impatient.

"Baw, ceri…al be…" Legolas stroked her hair tenderly and the two lovers gazed into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

"ÁRË! I need Legolas now! Do you want to kill him!" Aragorn finally boiled over. The she-elf gasped, horror-struck, and silvery tears instantly came to her eyes.

"N-no!" She carefully helped settle Legolas in the saddle in front of Aragorn, the tears threatening to leak out of her emerald eyes and run down her cheeks.

"Oh, Árë, I'm so---" Aragorn started to say, realizing just how powerful his words had been, but Árë was already running towards Nienor, her throat torn by sobs. Aragorn sighed. What an ass he'd been! How could he have said something like that. All Árë had done so far was help! He had to make right with her as soon as possible. But there was no time now…

"Come, Aragorn! Let us go!" Árë suddenly thundered past, digging her heels much harder than necessary into Nienor's sides.

"Noro lim, Roheryn!" Aragorn gave his stallion a hard thump, and the horse leapt into a gallop, catching up with Árë and Nienor. The she-elf urged Nienor faster and refused to look at the Ranger, tears streaming down her fair face.

oXo

They had been riding for over an hour in an uncomfortable and uneventful silence when Aragorn decided to try and make amends. He rode in close.

"Árë," he began, "Im úgerth le. Goheno nin…" _I wronged you. Forgive me…_He bowed his head and waited for the she-elf's response. There was a long silence, and then she said,

"I shall think about it." But it looked as if she already had, for she gave him a small, sad smile. Aragorn marvelled at her tolerance of mortals like him, for he had offended her twice now, and twice she had forgiven him.

oXo

"Aragorn! Stop!" Legolas groaned and slapped his hand over his mouth. Aragorn had been so busy with Árë, that he hadn't noticed that the Legolas had been clutching his throat for the last few seconds as his nausea had been building up again. He had actually been fine up until now, and Aragorn was hoping that the worst was over. Obviously, not.

"Hang on!" The Ranger halted Roheryn and leaped off, pulling Legolas down with him. He helped the elf down on his hands and knees again, held his hair back, and waited for him to finish. Árë jumped down from Nienor and knelt beside him, supporting him. Aragorn and Árë's eyes met for a brief second, and the Ranger knew for sure from her soft expression that she had forgiven him.

oXo

Legolas stopped gagging and crawled a few paces. Both Árë and Aragorn thought that he was going to be sick again, and followed him, but to their surprise, he lay down on the ground instead, shivering hard. The elf had never experienced symptoms like these before, and his condition distressed him. Human and she-elf's faces twisted with sympathy at this. Aragorn placed his hand on the young elf's forehead and groaned – his temperature was soaring.

"Legolas, mellon nin," he said gently, "there is no time. We are not even halfway yet."

"Gwanno…ereb..nin…" Legolas muttered, teeth chattering. _Leave me alone. _

"No; I cannot." Aragorn picked him up.

"Daro i!" _Stop that!_

"I'm sorry," the Ranger whispered, carrying him back to Roheryn. Árë helped them up again. Then she got on Nienor and they were once more on their way.

TBC

_A/N: Lol sorry if that was a bit depressing :( Poor Legolas, mean Aragorn – hurting Árë's feelings like that! Haldir and co. come in next chappie and we also meet a new character! Next weekend! Namárië for now,_

_-Alassë Lúinwë - My penname in elvish lol! Go to Google and type in 'Elvish names' Click on The Elvish Name Generator, and you can translate yours too!_


	17. Lothlorien

_A/N: Please forgive me for the long space in which there were no updates. This is what happened: first weekend, I was banned from computer through going to bed too late (12:00 – what's so wrong with that?), and now, our computer on the www. is broken (fortunately not mine, or I would DIE) and in the computer store getting repaired, so please bear with me! It is school IT lesson, in case anyone is wondering how I got to update lol! Also, I have just had my braces off – YAY:) _

Chapter Seventeen

What seemed like a millennium later (perhaps because Legolas had worsened – the elf had made Aragorn stop a further three times so that he could get off and be sick) Aragorn saw a line of trees approaching in the dark…mallorn trees. The Ranger urged his panting horse on. Nienor was managing to keep up, though she was taking strain too – the little mare's sides were heaving in and out like bellows and her sides were bathed in sweat. Suddenly, Legolas sighed and went limp in Aragorn's arms, and the Ranger's immediate thought was that he had died. He went cold and Árë gave a muffled scream of horror, apparently thinking the same. Quickly, Aragorn took the reins in one hand and felt for a pulse on the elf's neck with the other. His searching fingertips picked up a weak, barely detectable beat, weak and irregular, but it was still there. Aragorn gave Árë a thumbs-up. Just unconscious, thank Vala. The Ranger clutched the Mirkwood Prince tightly lest he should fall.

"Noro lim, Roheryn!" he cried, "Noro go sûl! Hortho an Legolas!" _Ride on, Roheryn! Ride with the wind! Speed for Legolas!_ Roheryn gave it his best. He pushed through the pain barrier and the red haze of exhaustion that danced before his eyes, and focused his mind solely on running, fleet as the wind. He wanted to collapse, but he couldn't, couldn't give up!

oXo

Soon, the group entered the Golden Wood and slowed to a fast trot. They had not been riding long, when three elves dropped from the trees, bows drawn back and pointed in the travellers' faces. The horses stopped short; Nienor reared in fright.

"Daro, firen!" The first elf moved his aim to Aragorn's throat. _Stop, mortal!_

"Baw, Orophin!" _No, Orophin! _The second, tall with long golden hair, lowered the first elf's bow. He had seen Árë, whom he knew well. The golden haired elf had already lowered his own bow, although he regarded Aragorn suspiciously and kept a hand raised, ready to draw a knife should he have to. "Baw, Rúmil!" _No, Rúmil! _The last elf also lowered his weapon as the second pointed at the she-elf. "Who are you, stranger?" The second addressed Aragorn in the Common Speech. "You ride with our kindred, so you must be a friend. I am Haldir of Lothlórien and these are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin." Orophin and Rúmil dipped their heads in greeting.

"Le suilon." _I greet thee._

"Suilad." _Greetings._

"Mae govannen," said Aragorn, returning the gesture. He noted that Rúmil and Orophin didn't seem to speak the Common Speech, but Haldir obviously did. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn." At this, all three Lórien elves frowned.

"Iston le?" Rúmil muttered, more to himself than to the Ranger. _Do I know you?_

"Mae!" Orophin told him. _Yes!_

"That name is known to us," said Haldir. Aragorn smiled slightly, but he was prevented from answering, as Legolas suddenly chose that moment to come round, and only half conscious, the poor elf had no control over himself and threw up all over Roheryn's withers. Haldir gasped.

"Pray tell, what is wrong with your companion!"

"The Prince of Mirkwood is very ill," said Aragorn gravely, getting off the horse with a rather dazed and confused elf and mopping him up with a cloth that Haldir handed him.

"Prince of Mirkwood! Ill! Elves do not get---?"

"Aye, he is Prince Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, and he has been mortally wounded as well as poisoned."

"How?"

"He was captured by Uruks; that is all I know. We need your help!"

"Of course, mellon nin!"

oXo

Aragorn cleaned Roheryn's shoulders to some extent and Haldir helped him and Legolas up again.

"Follow me," said Haldir, taking off at a run, Rúmil and Orophin close behind him, "We have healers!" The three elves led the travellers to the base of a huge mallorn tree, stairs winding up the trunk, carved out of the tree itself, it seemed, and the banisters hung with tiny blue lanterns, giving an eerie impression. Looking up, Aragorn and Árë saw a large flet, or talan as it was called by the elves, nestled in the boughs. Aragorn looked at the stairs in dismay. It would cause Legolas immense pain to carry him up all of those.

"I can…do it, Estel," the elf whispered, as if reading his friend's mind, "At least…with some…help…"

"He speaks!" exclaimed Haldir to no-one in particular.

"…Aye." Legolas winced as pain lanced through him. "But I fear…I shall not…for much longer…" Aragorn nearly dropped him.

"Of course you will!" he exclaimed, and Árë nodded and clutched his hand.

"Do not give up hope, meleth nin!" she urged. Aragorn turned to Haldir. "Time is running out. We must get him up there – fast!" Haldir nodded.

"Pass him down to me so that you can dismount. I will take him up." The Lórien elf held out his arms and Aragorn carefully passed Legolas down. The young elf yelped as he was jostled. Árë and Aragorn dismounted, tied their horses to one of the great roots, and followed the Lórien elves up the stairs. Árë ran up, but Aragorn went more slowly, gripping the wooden railing tightly should he lose his balance. It was a long way to fall!

oXo

When the Ranger eventually reached the huge tree house he found himself in a healer's room. Shelves filled with bottles, books, potions, herbs and various other items lined the walls, as well as a tall cupboard. A fire was burning steadily in the fireplace, and a kettle hung over the flames. In front of the fireplace there was a comfortable, beautifully carved wooden armchair covered with soft cushions and a blanket. Haldir was busy settling Legolas on one of two thickly quilted beds while a raven-haired elf with ethereal grey eyes, presumably a healer, hovered by his side.

"Haldir, Orophin and Rúmil – you may leave us now." He said, and turned to Aragorn. "I am Lanthir," he said, bending over Legolas and feeling the younger elf's forehead. The Prince of Mirkwood squirmed at the cool fingers on his burning skin, moaning softly. His consciousness was threatening to leave him again. Sensing this, Aragorn and Árë took his hand together both in an attempt to comfort him and to try to keep him with them.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn." Lanthir's fingers lingered for a moment and then the healer nodded to the Ranger and he sighed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

"Ai, I do not like it," he said, "His fever is high." Next, the healer checked Legolas' pulse. His brow immediately furrowed. Worried, Aragorn checked for himself, and his breath hitched in his chest there was no beat to be found. Árë gave an odd sound that sounded like a squeak. Panicking, Aragorn pressed harder, searching. Eventually, he found it, but relief turned to horror: Legolas' pulse was weaker than before, which could mean only one thing: the young prince was dying. No! Aragorn was not going to let that happen! Legolas was like his brother! His eyes shining with tears, Aragorn laid a hand on the elf's forehead.

"Aragorn…? He's not…that bad, is he?" Árë's voice trembled. "I mean – we've got him to Lórien now, I thought everything was supposed to be alright?" Aragorn took her hand.

"Árë, I wish with all my heart that it was that simple." Árë suddenly gasped and pulled Legolas' hand back as the elf convulsed.

"Aragorn!" The Ranger realized that Lanthir had been trying to get his attention for some time now. He gasped, feeling awful. He could have caused Legolas to worsen!

"Lanthir! I'm sorry, I---!"

"What poison has entered his body, and how? I do not want to waste valuable time."

"From his symptoms – muscle tremors, severe cramps, nausea, vomiting, a headache, and fever, I can safely say that it is snake venom mixed with a poison to delay the effects, as the symptoms only manifested late in the night, and the poison got into his body some time during the day, I am sure."

"How?"

"He was not bitten, I know for sure. He was captured by Uruks – it must have happened then. The poison obviously got in through one of his wounds; I think the shoulder. The wound was inflicted by a poisoned arrow, but it was poison of a different type, and I am effectively treating that. That is all I know." Lanthir nodded.

"Hannon le, your information was very helpful. You seem very knowledgeable on the subject." Lanthir began removing Legolas' tunic and shirt.

"Aye, I am a healer." Aragorn started to help, but Lanthir stopped him when he saw the Ranger wince as his wound pained him.

"I am sure Árë can help me. Go and sit down."

"I am fine." Aragorn watched as Árë removed the tunic and shirt.

"No, I can tell you have ridden hard – you are tired. You are also wounded and weak from the blood loss. You need rest to replenish that lost blood. Go and sit down," the healer repeated. Sighing, Aragorn stubbornly sat down on the edge of the bed, ignoring the 'go' part, not wanting to be away from Legolas. What Lanthir said was true – he did feel exhausted, and his wound throbbed. He hoped infection wasn't setting in…The Ranger's shoulders hunched over and his head nodded. Quickly, he caught himself before he succumbed to sleep, but Lanthir had seen. "Aragorn," he said gently, "You are tired. Go, there is a spare bed right there, or you can sit before the fire in the armchair if you prefer. There are blankets in that cupboard. Sleep. I will wake you if anything happens." Aragorn stifled a yawn.

"I can't leave him." _.:What if he_ _**dies** while I sleep! The last time I slept he became deathly ill! What if this time it is worse:._

"Yes, you can. He is in good hands, I assure you. Anyway, if you look at it logically, you are not really leaving him at all. You are still in the same room. Go and rest, you need it. You don't have to sleep if you don't want to," Lanthir said tactfully, "Just lie or sit quietly." The elf knew how to get the Ranger to sleep. He was practically falling asleep on the corner of the bed.

"Oh…" Aragorn couldn't hold back the yawn any longer, "Alright, but…promise you'll wake me if anything happens."

"Promise."

oXo

Aragorn cast a last look at the pale figure on the bed before heading for the cupboard, dragging his feet over the woven rug. He chose a thick blanket, as it was rather cold, and settled in the armchair, hoping that the upright position would help to keep him awake, but to no avail. The cushions were wonderfully soft, the blanket cosy and snug, and the Ranger could feel the warmth of the fire seeping into his tired body. He felt toasty and warm, and in no time at all, he was fast asleep.

oXo

Árë and Lanthir removed all of Legolas' garments except for his leggings, and pulled the blankets up to his waist. The elf gasped.

"Blankets…too heavy…ankle!" Lanthir moved the blankets off the younger elf's injured ankle, apologizing.

"Better now?" he asked.

"Aye…" Legolas grimaced. Lanthir tucked a few stray strands of Legolas' hair behind the elf's ears, as they had been sticking to his face, which was drenched in sweat. The young elf was shivering hard. Lanthir moved from the bed and went to the first of the many shelves. Not finding what he wanted, the healer moved the next shelf, frowning, and then the next, and the next, his searching growing more and more desperate. Árë watched him with growing anxiety.

oXo

Lanthir went back to the first shelf, thinking and hoping that perhaps he had overlooked the bottle he sought, but no, he couldn't find the antidote for neurotoxic snake venom.

"Rhaich!" Uncharacteristically, the healer swore, and accidentally knocked a bottle to the floor. It smashed, and the elf sighed and cleaned up the mess, chiding himself for his behaviour.

oXo

Miraculously, the noise of the breaking crystal had not woken Aragorn. The ranger merely grunted and shifted slightly in his sleep. He usually slept so lightly that a mere footstep would wake him. He had obviously pushed himself beyond the limit.

oXo

"Lanthir?" asked Árë nervously, "What is it?" The healer said nothing, still searching his shelves, picking out herbs, bottles and powders, but he didn't look happy. It was clearly an alternative solution. "Lanthir!" No answer. "What is wrong! I know that there is something!"

"Alright, but please, stay calm, promise me that."

"Promise. Is it serious?"

"Yes," the healer sighed, "It is. I do not have the correct antidote to treat the poison affecting Prince Legolas."

Árë groaned, and Legolas gasped. The elf winced as his lung protested. Árë moved closer to Lanthir, tears filling her green eyes. "Is there a possibility that he may die?" she asked in a whisper, "I want the truth, Lanthir," she added, knowing the healer's tendency to understate situations in order to reassure. Lanthir looked her right in the eye with his sad grey eyes.

"Yes, Árë, there is."

TBC.

_A/N: Ooh, a cliffie, my fave lol! I will not be updating in a few days, as my family is going on holiday to someplace full of horses, sheep and trout. Yeah, horses are great, but the rest…okay, smoked trout is good…It is a 10hour roadtrip! SHOCK HORROR DISASTER! _


	18. A Bad Feeling

Chapter Eighteen

Thranduil and Elenath spurred their horses into a gallop. The two elves had just passed Legolas and Aragorn's second battle scene, and were surprised to see not one, but _three_ sets footprints in the dust that were not goblin. Two sets were elven and one was human. One set definitely belonged to Legolas. The human set puzzled the elves until Elenath suggested that he could have met up with Estel, and as that was the only explanation that they had, the two elves settled on that, hoping that it was true. Lastly, the third set – small, neat elven footprints – a she-elf. Could it be…Árë? Was she alive after all? Had Legolas' crazy mission succeeded? But where were they now?

oXo

"Elenath!" exclaimed Thranduil some time later, as the horses walked once more, "How much have you had to drink? Can't you steer that mare of yours? She keeps chewing Bregedur's tail, and I'm warning you, he's getting irritated!" A distant look faded from Elenath's azure eyes.

"I haven't had anything alcoholic to drink!" he said in an injured voice, "And when I do, I drink responsibly! I have never in my life been drunk, which is more than you can say!" Elenath pulled Gildin's head up. Thranduil snorted, but didn't deny this last fact.

"Why are you so out of it then?"

"I was just…thinking. I am worried about Legolas. I just have this…well…_feeling_, and I don't like it. I fear something has befallen him, Thranduil, something serious." The Elvenking sighed.

"So you feel it too. Ai, I thought I was the only one. I was not sure whether or not to take it seriously, but now that we are both experiencing this, I fear we may be right. Come! We must ride!" Thranduil was about to spur Bregedur into a gallop, but Elenath stopped him.

"No; leave it at a trot. We need to conserve their energy."

"I suppose you are right – as always." The Elvenking touched his red stallion's sides lightly and settled impatiently into the trot. _.:Oh, Legolas:._, he prayed, _.:Don't let us be right! Please come home safe! Well:._, Thranduil thought, _.:Legolas did take Nimros, and I've never seen a horse smarter than that white stallion of his:. _If anyone could keep his son safe, Nimroscould. The stallion always had his wits about him, and in Thranduil's opinion, his head was screwed on good and tight (even if he did occasionally eat the roses, although he had to be pretty smart to be able to get out of his stable), and the Legolas and Nimros knew each other so well that they could sense each others moods in pitch blackness. _.:Yes:._, Thranduil thought, suddenly feeling a lot more optimistic, _.:I can count on Nimros to look after Legolas:. _If only he had been right.

TBC


	19. The Worst Cliffie EVA!

Chapter Nineteen

"Aragorn! Aragorn!" Sobbing uncontrollably, Árë shook the Ranger awake, making him wince as she touched his arm.

"Árë! What's wrong!" Aragorn knew that something was seriously amiss, and he instantly looked to Legolas's bed. The elf seemed to be asleep, but Árë couldn't speak for sobs. She rushed over, Aragorn following slowly, not wanting to believe his eyes. Legolas lay on the bed, as if in sleep, but his chest no longer rose and fell as he struggled for breath, he no longer shivered from fever, no longer convulsed. His skin was a milky white, and his eyes…they stared up at the intricately carved ceiling lifelessly, grey, not blue…

oXo

Lanthir was bending over him, feeling urgently for a pulse that didn't exist, but then he sighed and passed his hand gently over the younger elf's eyes, closing them for the last time. He looked at Aragorn, whose vision was blurred by unshed tears. "…Aragorn, he's gone, I'm sorry…"

"No!" the Ranger shouted in a choked voice, the tears flowing freely down his face now, "No, no, no!" He put his hand out and touched Legolas's forehead. It was still warm, but the heat was fading rapidly.

"He went just before Árë woke you," said Lanthir sadly, "He had a huge convulsion, and I think it just sapped the last of his strength. Aragorn, he's gone," the healer said again, "He doesn't have to suffer any more." The elf's mist grey eyes were clouded with sadness.

"Legolas!" Aragorn howled. He couldn't believe it – his friend that he had known for so long, his brother, was dead! "No no no no noooooooo!"

TBC

_A/N: That has got to be the shortest and worstest (:P) cliffie ever lol! I literally ended it in the middle of a sentence. Did I really kill Leggy! Next chapter lol! Don't you dare get angry and desert me at this late hour! ;) _


	20. HE'S ALIVE!

Chapter Twenty

"_No!" the Ranger shouted in a choked voice, the tears flowing freely down his face now, "No, no, no!" He put his hand out and touched Legolas's forehead. It was still warm, but the heat was fading rapidly. _

"_He went just before Árë woke you," said Lanthir sadly, "He had a huge convulsion, and I think it just sapped the last of his strength. Aragorn, he's gone," the healer said again, "He doesn't have to suffer any more." The elf's mist grey eyes were clouded with sadness. _

"_Legolas!" Aragorn howled. He couldn't believe it – his friend that he had known for so long, his brother, was dead! "No no no no noooooooo!"_ And then all of a sudden he was on the floor, and he had a major headache, and his arm hurt.

oXo

"Aragorn? Aragorn!" It was Árë, but she looked concerned, not distraught. "Are you alright? You were shouting. You're crying. Were you nightmaring? You fell off the chair. Are you alright?" she asked again.

"Huh?" Aragorn lay trussed up in his blanket on the rug that lay in front of the fireplace. He was in quite a state – shivering and his cheeks wet with tears. "Legolas!" he cried despairingly, "He's dead!" He gazed up at Árë, wondering why she wasn't in the slightest bit upset.

"No I'm…not, Estel…" came a weak voice from the bed, "You were…nightmaring!"

"Legolas!" The Ranger's head whipped around, and sure enough, Legolas was alive, though he was still deathly pale. He disentangled himself from the blanket and stumbled toward the bed, feeling as though he were in some wonderful dream, even though the situation was far from wonderful. "Legolas…you're…you're…"

"Alive…not dead." Legolas attempted a reassuring smile, but he suddenly convulsed instead, crying out in agony. Aragorn ran to him and took his friend's clenched fist, still half-fearing the skin to be clammy and cold, but it wasn't. It was burning hot.

oXo

The convulsion was distressing, but short lived, and when it was over, Aragorn stroked Legolas' hair back, straightened his limbs, and smoothed the sheets. He turned to Lanthir, who was mixing what Aragorn assumed was the antidote.

"He needs the antidote – quickly!" The Ranger frowned as he watched the healer. "I don't recall _that_ as being an ingredient." Lanthir stopped mixing and turned to face him.

"Aragorn, I do not have the antidote, but I can give him something else."

"You don't have it! But---!"

"Listen to me. I can give him something else. It will not cure him, but for as long as he keeps taking it, he will not experience the effects. As soon as he stops, the poison will recur. This medicine almost 'freezes' it in his system; it doesn't get rid of it, so it's like in the winter when it gets very cold and a waterfall freezes – it's frozen - doesn't move. But as soon as spring comes along, the water moves again. The drug is like the winter, and the poison is like the waterfall. It is a good remedy, but there is a slight hitch…"

"What is that?"

"Well, it dramatically slows healing and makes the patient – if he or she is an elf, sensitive to temperature, particularly cold – I haven't had problems with heat before. This could just be a problem for Prince Legolas though…"

"It is his only hope. He is dying."

"After he takes it, you must get him to Rivendell with all due speed. The Lord Elrond will be able to provide you with the antidote you seek." Lanthir went back to mixing.

"Aye." Aragorn nodded. Lanthir mixed a little more and then poured some of the mixture into a silver cup. He handed it to Aragorn.

"He must drink this – all of it, or it won't work." Aragorn nodded and turned to Legolas.

"Legolas, mellon nin, you need to take this. It will stop the poison."

"I will…try." Legolas raised his head, and Aragorn helped him to drink. The elf was nearly sick on the first swallow, his throat wanting to close up, but he managed to fight the sensation back and continue drinking. Aragorn handed Lanthir the empty cup.

"How long will this take to take effect?"

"Not long; about half an hour. Meanwhile, cover him up warmly, as once the drug starts to work, he will scarcely be able to regulate his body temperature anymore."

"…_What!_" Legolas croaked. Lanthir explained to him how the drug worked and about its side effects. "Ohhhh…" Legolas looked scared.

"But it is only until you reach Rivendell. Right now, you need to get something warm on."

"Aye." Aragorn gently put the elf's silk shirt onto him. Árë had mended it and his tunic with patches of similar material while they had stood there, and though both garments would need replacing, they would see Legolas through until they got to Rivendell. _.:If we get to Rivendell:._, thought Aragorn grimly as he slipped on the tunic. Legolas gasped softly as the Ranger touched his swollen and very painful shoulder. "Forgive me, Legolas." Aragorn put on the elf's left boot.

"Estel…you're bleeding!" Legolas suddenly said.

"Pardon?"

"Your arm!" Aragorn glanced down at his arm and saw a wet patch on his sleeve. Lanthir and Árë clearly hadn't noticed it.

"Bleeding?" He had Árë and Lanthir's attention now. The Ranger turned away so that his good arm was to them.

"No, I'm not," he lied.

"Yes, he…is." Legolas fixed his gaze on Aragorn.

"Aragorn," said Árë, "You fell off the chair in your sleep. You probably ripped some stitches. We need to see. There is no time for downplaying it until infection sets in."

Aragorn huffed and started to remove his shirt, but Lanthir gently but firmly took over when he saw the Ranger's jaw clenched.

"Here; let me help."

"No, it's fine – I can ---"Aragorn protested, but Lanthir gently took the shirt off him and handed it to Árë for a bit of cleaning and mending. The healer began to untie the bandages. Pulling them off, he discovered that Aragorn had ripped the wound wide open again and it was bleeding quite badly. The raven-haired elf quickly fetched bandages and cloth. He pressed a cloth to the wound until the bleeding was under control, and then he took a needle and thread from a pouch at his waist. Lanthir also took out a tiny crystal phial of clear liquid and poured some onto a cloth. He rubbed the needle in the cloth thoroughly to sterilize it, and then threaded it.

"This might hurt," he warned.

"I'll live." Aragorn gritted his teeth as Lanthir stitched the wound using such tiny, perfect stitches that they looked as if they had been made by magic. Cutting the thread, the healer put some medication onto a square of cloth and bandaged it securely over the wound. He handed Aragorn some herb leaves.

"Here, chew these. They are both painkilling and infection fighting herbs." The Ranger accepted, them, grimacing at the taste. Lanthir turned his attention to Árë, who had nearly finished with Aragorn's shirt. She finished and handed it to the healer who helped the Ranger get it back on. "Come," the healer then said to the she-elf, "I will need to give you provisions for the journey. Legolas will need additional doses of his medication and all of you will need extra clothing. After all, it's winter, and it will be snowing on the mountains. You will be going that way, I presume. Going via the Gap of Rohan will take you too long, though it is likely to be the safer route."

Árë and Aragorn nodded, and Árë followed Lanthir to the cupboard.

oXo

Aragorn checked Legolas' pulse, his nightmare still haunting him.

"Ai, Legolas," he sighed, "Look at you…!"

"I'm okay…" The elf tried to smile in an attempt to reassure his friend. Then, without thinking, he yawned – a mistake. Agony lanced through his chest, burning and crushing him, and with a small scream, he reached his good hand up to the wound, squeezing his eyes shut. He arched his back, which only made the suffering worse.

"Legolas! Relax, it will ease your pain!" Aragorn clasped the elf's hand. The Ranger knew exactly what was wrong, and so did Lanthir, for he was instantly at Legolas' side, Árë right behind him.

"Prince Legolas, be calm!" he exclaimed. Árë tried to stroke his hair, but in his panicked state, Legolas cried out at the touch, and the she-elf withdrew her hand.

"Legolas, listen to me, mellon nin! Relax!" Aragorn cried.

oXo

Legolas heard their voices, faint and echoing, and he strove to control himself. What seemed like an eternity later, he lay still, right on the edge of the bed, shivering uncontrollably and drenched in sweat. Árë smoothed his hair and Aragorn beat Lanthir to taking his pulse. The Ranger felt the elf's forehead and found his temperature to be nearly normal.

"How do you feel?" he asked, wondering if the drug was beginning to work yet.

"…C-cold…!" Legolas admitted through chattering teeth. He clenched them, embarrassed. Aragorn gave him a sympathetic look. Lanthir handed the Ranger a heavy coat.

"Get this onto him." Aragorn took the coat, and with Árë's help, they eased it onto Legolas. The garment reached past the elf's knees. Lanthir passed Legolas some of the painkilling herbs. "Slowly," he cautioned, as the younger elf took them in a shaky hand. Legolas took Lanthir's advice – his stomach still felt rather queasy, and the last thing he wanted was to be sick again. It was far from pleasant. The elf swallowed the last of the herbs and sighed gently. Satisfied, Lanthir went back to packing, taking Árë with him.

oXo

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked, "Are you feeling any warmer."

"Some," the elf answered, "Except for my…foot."

"Of course!" Aragorn glanced at Legolas' ankle. The elf's foot was bandaged securely, but it was otherwise uncovered, and his body heat would easily escape out of it. "Lanthir?"

"Aye?" The healer looked up from filling a pack. "What is it?"

"Do you have some sort of thick sock? Legolas' body heat will escape from his foot if it is not covered."

"Oh, aye." Lanthir dug around in the cupboard. "Here," he said, holding out a warm, knitted woollen sock. Aragorn fetched it and eased it over Legolas' bandages.

"There – that should keep you warm."

"Hannon le; it feels better…already," Legolas said to try to reassure his friend. He gave him a weak, lopsided smile.

"Glad to hear it." It wasn't that Aragorn believed the elf; no, he didn't, but he wanted so badly for everything to be alright.

oXo

"You are ready to leave, and leave you must." Lanthir stepped up to the bed, carrying a large pack and an equally sized medical bag. Árë carried a second pack and a bedroll. "There is food, clothing and blankets in the two packs," Lanthir continued, "and this healers' bag is well stocked with Prince Legolas' medicine, as well as a good supply of fresh bandages and just about anything else you might need."

"Hannon le; we must go." Aragorn gently picked up Legolas, making the elf groan. The Prince of Mirkwood simply _hated_ being carried about like this, party because it was so painful, but mostly because it made him feel so humiliated and helpless, like he couldn't do anything for himself. _.:Who are you trying to kid, Legolas:._ He asked himself, _.:Right now, you _can't _do much for yourself:. _ Aragorn began to descend the stairs, Lanthir and Árë following and carrying the bags.

oXo

When they reached the bottom, they found Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin waiting with the horses, both of whom looked a lot happier than before.

"How is he?" Haldir asked Lanthir quietly.

"…Fine." Legolas raised his hand weakly and attempted to smile at Haldir. The golden haired Lórien elf frowned. Legolas certainly didn't look 'fine'.

"Oh," he said, "Well…that is…good to hear." Rúmil an Orophin looked just as unconvinced.

"He is better than he was," Lanthir informed them, making Legolas glare at him. Oh, how he wished that he could wriggle out of Aragorn's arms and stand, but the pain level would be suicidal, and he would never be able to support himself anyway.

oXo

Haldir turned to Aragorn.

"Your horses have been watered, though they have not had much, for we imagine that you will be riding hard. If tat is the case, then take these." The elf handed Aragorn a small pouch containing some herbs. "They are stimulants," he explained, "They will give your horses energy when they are in desperate need of it, particularly the non elven one. She is pretty – " he rubbed Nienor's neck, "but she does not have the stamina for a journey such as this one. However, with the use of these herbs, she will have a new energy."

"Hannon le." Aragorn smiled and put the bag into one of Roheryn's saddlebags. "I am sure these will prove invaluable."

"Just one or two leaves when they begin to tire," Haldir warned, "No more, or their hearts could stop." Aragorn nodded again and patted the saddlebag. Lanthir strapped the packs to the horses, and helped Aragorn and Legolas to mount. Aragorn settled Legolas in front of him, making sure that the elf was leaning back against him for support and so that he wouldn't put pressure on his injured lung, therefore easing his breathing. Aragorn and Árë turned their horses to face the Lórien elves.

"Gen hannon," said Aragorn, addressing them all, _I thank you _"Without the four of you, Legolas would be dead by now. If you – Haldir, Orophin and Rúmil – had not taken us to Lanthir…Ai, hannon le! Lanthir; rim hennaid, I don't know what more I can say." _Many thanks._ Lanthir nodded understandingly and smiled.

"Mae…" said Legolas, swallowing his pride, "hantale…" _Yes, thanks._

"Gelir na thaed. No ce ammaer ab lû thent." _Happy to help. May you be better soon._

"Hannon le, Lanthir!" Árë jumped off Nienor and threw her arms around the healer. "Le melon!" _I love you!_ Beaming, the she-elf scrambled back onto Nienor, and leaving Lanthir somewhat taken aback.

"Yes, I think that he will pull through. He is strong." The healer raised his eyebrows. "But you had best get going!"

"Aye," said Aragorn, "Namárië!" He nudged Roheryn, and they set off at a gallop through the mallorn trees, Nienor following.

"Cuio vae! Na Elbereth veria le!" _Fare well! May Elbereth protect you!_

"Namárië, no galu govad gen!" _Farewell, may blessings go with you!_

"Belain na le! Navaer!" _The Valar be with you! Farewell!_

"Calo anor na ven!" _May the sun shine on your road!_

The four Lórien elves watched for a long time, and then disappeared into the woods like ghosts.

TBC


	21. High Horsies!

**Hello out there! Thanks for the reviews; I now have over 50 on this story! Right now, I can only thank Rabid Angel for reviewing the last few chapters. Where are the rest of you! I hope I haven't lost you! Especially Invisigoth3, you've been with me since the beginning! If you guys are still reading, please review! I know what you feel like if you're busy with exams/projects or something; I am practically snowed under :S Rabid Angel: Thanks again! This story is still going to go on for a long time! ;) This chapter promises some humour.**

Chapter Twenty One

Aragorn made for the High Pass, and they made good time. By nightfall, they had reached the Gladden River. It had been a long, hard ride, and both horses had needed the energy boosting herbs. It seemed that they could now keep galloping tirelessly for hours and with an unnatural speed once the stimulant took effect. That is what they had been doing for the better part of the day, in between short halts.

oXo

"Don't you think we had better stop for the night!" Árë asked, shouting to be heard over the thundering of the horses' hooves.

"No," Aragorn yelled back, his eyes streaming, "Just a bit further!" He released the reins completely, giving Roheryn his head, as the stallion was trying to convince Nienor to race him.

"Ai!" Legolas suddenly exclaimed, "They are…colts again! What is…that herb!" The young elf had been very quiet up until now, only speaking when spoken to, so Aragorn was surprised.

"Legolas!" The Ranger leant over the elf's good shoulder. "Are you feeling better?"

"I'm…fine!" Legolas said obstinately. Aragorn snorted.

"Yeah, right, I'm sure, Legolas. You've never been better." The Ranger rolled his eyes, shaking his head. At least the elf wasn't avoiding conversation so much anymore, so his pain must have lessened some.

oXo

About half an hour later, Aragorn spotted a convenient location for camp: three trees in a V shape beside a stream.

"We will stop here." He pulled Roheryn up. The stallion stamped his foot in irritation. He wanted to be galloping and racing, not standing still! The horse tossed his head and snorted, swishing his tail. Nienor, on the other hand, was quite happy to be stopping, as her dose of the stimulant was beginning to wear off. Roheryn suddenly flattened his ears, and Aragorn, foreseeing trouble, leaped off, taking Legolas gently down with him, and none too soon, for the stallion reared up on his hind legs, flinging his head back and pawing the air with his hooves. His eyes caught the moonlight, wild and fierce. His nostrils were dilated and he was foaming at the mouth from the bit. It made him look rabid and terrifying.

"Roheryn!" Aragorn cried furiously, "Baw! Daro i, Roheryn!" _No! Stop that!_ The horse glared at the Ranger but then seemed to realize just exactly _who_ he was glaring at: his master. The stallion dropped onto all fours, shuffling his feet and whickering nervously. "That will do!" Aragorn glared fiercely back, and Legolas smiled when the mighty horse who could have just as easily crushed the Ranger, cowered. "Árë," Aragorn called, seeing that the she-elf had dismounted and had taken Nienor for a quick drink, not allowing her to drink too much, as she could get colic from drinking so soon after a hard gallop.

"Mae?" she answered in elvish, unfocused, stroking Nienor's main absently.

"I need your help with Legolas. I have a slight…problem with Roheryn and I don't altogether trust him with Legolas at the moment. The herbs have made him slightly…queer."

"Of course. Come on, Nienor, you can drink later." Árë came over, leading the mare. She tied her to a tree. "How can I help?"

"Here, take Legolas." Aragorn handed him over and quickly set about laying out the elf's bed beside a tree, using all the spare blankets from Lanthir as well as the elf's own. Árë carried him over and settled him onto it. Aragorn removed the long coat and set it aside before drawing the blankets up to Legolas' chin. "I think it is time for your medicine." Aragorn fetched one of the waterskins containing the drug as well as a silver cup. He crouched down beside Legolas and poured out the correct dosage into the cup. He then helped the elf to sit up and drink, propping him up against the tree trunk. "Would you like something to eat?' he asked.

"Yes," Legolas began, but then he shook his head, remembering what had happened to him the last time he had eaten before bed. "No."

"Legolas!" exclaimed Árë, "You have to eat!" Aragorn frowned, knowing what Legolas was thinking.

"It was the poison that made you sick, Legolas, not the lembas. You need to eat, otherwise you _will_ get sick. You haven't eaten a thing since last night!"

"Neither have…you. We will both…eat."

"Good, I will go and get the lembas." Aragorn got up.

"Lembas?" Legolas groaned. Anything but lembas! It had some very negative connotations for him now and would most likely stick in his throat.

"I'm sorry; that is all there is, and you _are_ going to eat!" said Aragorn, "I promise it won't make you sick again."

"Fine, fine,…fine! I will…eat!" But Legolas looked very unhappy. Aragorn fetched the lembas. He sat down beside Legolas and Árë with a small bag, and opened it to reveal a generous supply of lembas bread wrapped in mallorn leaves, and six full waterskins. The Ranger's stomach growled hungrily, and he took out a cake of lembas and unwrapped it, snapping it in half and holding one of the halves out to Legolas. He passed the other half to Árë, who started eating hungrily.

oXo

Legolas took his piece and took a tiny nibble. Instantly his throat closed up and he gagged on the food, nauseated. Árë looked up, startled.

"Are you alright!" Legolas managed to control himself and nod to Árë. He shook his head at Aragorn.

"C-can't! It's…no use! I'll…be sick!" he gasped.

"No," said Aragorn firmly, "This is in your head now. If you're going to tell yourself that eating lembas will make you sick, then that is what will happen. The mind is a powerful thing, Legolas. Try telling yourself that you're _not_ going to be sick – now try eating again and you'll find that you are quite able to."

"I'll…try," said Legolas bravely, and tried hard to do as Aragorn had told him. He took another cautious bite of the lembas, concentrating hard on thinking positively, and to his amazement he was able to swallow without any difficulty. His stomach suddenly growled with hunger, and he took another bite, grinning. Aragorn grinned back, and took a piece of lembas himself.

"See, I told you!"

oXo

After supper, Aragorn untacked the horses and put them on their picket lines beside the stream, so that they could graze and drink. He gave them a good rub-down with an old cloth, which they seemed to enjoy. The Ranger returned to find Legolas fast asleep against the tree.

"He just passed out!" Árë exclaimed, "One moment he was awake and talking, and the next he was fast asleep, mid sentence! Did you put something extra in his medicine?" she scolded, "A sleeping herb, perhaps!"

"No, I didn't," said Aragorn, "I think he's just plain exhausted. He's been as sick as a dog and he's still far from alright – he should be tired." Árë nodded.

"Well, he can't stay leaning against that tree all night. He'll get cold. Should I lower him?"

"Let me do it. I know exactly where he's injured, so I will not hurt him. We do not want to wake him." Árë's jaw tightened slightly, but she let the Ranger gently ease Legolas into bed and cover him warmly with the blankets. Árë leant over him and kissed him on the cheek. Legolas stirred in response and gave a soft sigh, which sounded almost happy.

TBC

**Hmm, I don't think I like this whole Árë – Legolas love affair, and I'm sure you'll agree with me lol! We all like our fave elf to be single! We-ell, I think I could change that romance thing…I'm gonna break 'em up lol! ;) :evil grin: If you pay careful attention, you'll notice in the next few chapters that Árë will start to get a little offish to Leggy (I guess 'cause the whole thing with him being injured and all has just got too much for her) ,and then comes the break-up:cheering: Yeah! Leggy will be single once again:D :more cheering: Now that I have got myself on a high with the cheerful prospect of breaking some hearts (actually just one really – Leggy's, 'cause Árë is gonna be the little female dog and dump him), I will say goodbye for now! C ya, and thanx for readin' that long A/N. Consider yourself enlightened. ;D**

**-Windsong-**

**P.S: Something that'll interest you: The Worst Is Still To Come, and I don't mean the break up! Oh no, what have I done now, it's like a cliffie that only comes later! You don't know what's gonna happen, only I do lol:evil grin: MWAHAHAHA! **


	22. A Big Improvement

**Here's the update! I'm so happy I have all my readers back that I thought I had lost – and some new ones too. Yay!**

Chapter Twenty Two

Aragorn laid his and Árë's bedrolls out, one on either side of Legolas, and he and Árë settled down to take it in turns to keep watch over Legolas through the night. Árë was to take first watch, and they were to switch every two hours, or sooner if they began to tire. Legolas also needed to be woken just before dawn for his medication, so if Árë happened to be watching Legolas at the time, she would have to wake Aragorn, as the she-elf did not know the correct dosage, and an overdose could be fatal, as could too little.

oXo

'Night, Árë!" yawned Aragorn, pulling the blanket up over his head.

"Until I wake you, Ranger of the North."

"Mmff…"

oXoXoXo

"Aragorn!"

"Ugh?"

"Your watch." Árë slipped into bed, stifling a yawn. Aragorn got up, rubbing his eyes. It was nearly dawn, which meant that Árë had watched a lot longer that she should have.

"Árë, you shouldn't have! You need your sleep!"

"Mmm…"

"How is Legolas?"

"Sleeping like a baby…Not a sound…Goodnight, Aragorn…" Árë turned over a few times, fiddled with the corner of her blanket, and fell asleep.

"That's good to hear." Aragorn picked up the healers' bag and padded silently over to Legolas' bedroll. He carefully lifted the blankets. Underneath, the injured elf was sleeping quite peacefully, and Aragorn slowly took in his breath, for Legolas' breathing had suddenly eased dramatically overnight. He had worried that the medicine would prevent him from healing himself at all. The Ranger sat beside his friend and whispered his name until the young elf's blue eyes opened.

"Uh?"

"Medicine." Legolas groaned. The last thing he felt like right now was being woken up in what felt to him like the middle of the night to take medicine that tasted absolutely vile. He had been having a deep, dreamless sleep, and it had felt so good. "It won't take long," said Aragorn, pouring the liquid into the cup, "and then you can go back to sleep." Legolas grunted sleepily, and Aragorn helped him to drink. The elf's eyes were closed before he was even finished and he fell asleep just as the cup left his lips. Aragorn pulled the blankets up around the elf again, recapped the waterskin and put it and the cup away. He lay down with his head propped up in his hand and his elbow in the grass to make himself more comfortable, but soon, his shoulder and neck began to ache, and his eyelids drooped…His head nodded, and the next thing the Ranger toppled over beside Legolas, sound asleep.

oXo

The first pale rays of a winter dawn woke Legolas, warming his face, and he opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head. It pounded and he felt dizzy, but the feeling passed. The elf looked about and realized he was the only one awake. Aragorn was lying right beside him, spread-eagled on the ground, as if he had fallen from some great height, his mouth slightly open. Snickering to himself, Legolas reached out and poked him.

"Aargh!" The Ranger's eyes snapped open and he drew his hunting knife.

"Good morning, Estel," Legolas greeted him, grinning broadly, "I am glad to see that the reflexes are quite in order." The elf spoke without any painful pauses in which to fight for breath.

"Err, yes…heh heh…" Aragorn smiled sheepishly, and then exclaimed, "Legolas! You're feeling better!"

"Aye, much."

"Well, would you like breakfast then?"

"That would be most appreciated, thank you."

"Wait here." Aragorn got up.

"Well, I'm not exactly going anywhere," said Legolas pointedly, raising an eyebrow in good humour.

"Err…right." Aragorn was just so happy about the improvement in Legolas' condition that he had spoken without thinking. "Well, I'll go get breakfast then, shall I?" He walked off.

"Oh," said Legolas. Aragorn stopped. "I won't tell Árë you fell asleep on your watch…again." He winked. "She'd _kill_ you." There was a muttered curse from the Ranger. Legolas shook his head, grinning to himself.

oXo

"Breakfast!" announced Aragorn cheerily. He helped Legolas to sit up and lean against the tree, and then held out a cake of lembas. The elf took it and began to eat hungrily. "You look as if you haven't seen food in a week!" Aragorn exclaimed with a laugh.

"Feels like it," said Legolas through a mouthful of lembas.

"How did you sleep, mellon nin?" Aragorn inquired. "Were you warm enough?"

"That I was. I must have slept very deeply, for I did not dream, which I usually do…" Legolas frowned.

"Well, you were seriously deprived of sleep."

"Aye, I suppose so." Legolas nearly yawned, but caught himself in time.

"That would have hurt."

"Aye." Legolas agreed, chiding himself for being so forgetful. It was just that he wasn't used to being in so bad a condition. He had been injured before, but never like this.

oXo

"Uhmmm…" Árë stretched, her green eyes coming into focus. She blinked a few times and sat up. Seeing Legolas awake and eating breakfast with Aragorn, both looking so happy, she decided to join them. The she-elf went to the pack containing the food, and took a cake of lembas. To her delight, she also found a comb, which Lanthir had thoughtfully packed. Árë pulled it through her long fair hair, glad to be rid of the tangles, and joined Legolas and Aragorn.

"You're looking pretty this morning." Legolas winked at her, grinning as he eyed the comb in her hand. Árë huffed and tucked it into the pocket of her cloak, before sitting down beside Aragorn with her breakfast. "May I borrow that?" Legolas asked. Árë frowned. "No no no, not the lembas," Legolas said with a light chuckle, realizing that Árë must have misunderstood him, "the comb."

"Oh, of course you may." Árë passed it to him, but after watching the young elf battle single-handedly with his hair for a few minutes, she gently, but firmly took it from him.

"What!" Legolas began.

"Let me help you," she offered. The she-elf put down her half-eaten cake of lembas and undid Legolas' warrior braids, so that his hair hung loose down his back, making him look surprisingly different, like an elfling. She combed the knots out and neatly re-did the braids.

"Hannon le, Árë." Árë nodded and got up.

"We should go."

"Aye," Aragorn agreed. He too rose, having finished his breakfast. "I will pack up."

"And I will help you," said Árë. It was a statement, not an offer. Aragorn and Árë began pitching camp, and Legolas was left alone, wondering what had come over Árë. She was almost avoiding him! It wasn't like he was contagious or anything! The elf frowned, puzzled.

oXo

Once the horses had been tacked up and everything loaded onto them, Aragorn went to Legolas, leading Roheryn. Árë hung back, petting Nienor.

"Everything is ready," the Ranger said to Legolas, "All that remains is to get you onto Roheryn."

"I am fine; I will manage."

"Well that is good." Aragorn tugged Roheryn's bridle lightly and the horse knelt The Ranger pulled back Legolas' blankets and carefully lifted him into the saddle. He packed up the bedding and then climbed on behind the elf. Árë mounted too. "Let us go!" Aragorn cried, and slapped the reins on Roheryn's neck. The stallion over-reacted and went from a standstill to a full gallop, pulling the reins out of the Ranger's hands. Legolas winced and put his feet in the stirrups to keep his injured ankle from hanging limply. He snatched the reins back and handed them over to Aragorn, who just managed to get the bolting horse under control. "DARO, ROHERYN, DARO!" He pulled the horse's head around and turned him in a circle. Roheryn rolled his eyes. Árë rode up, rolling her eyes too.

"Enough shenanigans already! Are we finally ready to go now?"

"I think so." Aragorn gave his horse a gentle nudge with his heels and they were off.

TBC **No duh LOL :D**

**ANGST IN NEXT CHAPTER!**


	23. A Horrible Accident

**Greetings. You will have to excuse some brief language in this chapter, but I feel that it is necessary. I won't use it again, though. After all, this fic _is _rated teen. **

Chapter Twenty Three

By evening, Aragorn, Legolas and Árë had reached the foot of the mighty Caradras Redhorn. It had already begun to snow, and Aragorn had been sure to wrap Legolas up warmly against the cold. He still insisted upon checking the elf's hands every few minutes for signs of frostbite, which was really starting to annoy Legolas.

"Estel, if you do not stop this, then I _will_ get frostbite," he grumbled, as he put his gloves back on for about the tenth time in the hour.

oXo

The travellers started on the Pass, and that was when something nasty happened. The snow covered ground made it difficult for the horses to find their footing, and Aragorn was just thinking that perhaps he should get off and carry Legolas, when the inevitable happened. There was suddenly a panicked squeal from Roheryn as his hoof caught between two rocks. The stallion struggled for a few moments to keep his balance, but he had injured his leg and put himself too far off balance. His attempts were in vain. Aragorn gasped and attempted to leap off with Legolas, but it was too late; Roheryn toppled heavily on his side, right on top of them both.

oXo

Legolas gave a strangled cry and went limp. Árë leaped off Nienor and dashed to their aid. She helped pull a shuddering Roheryn to his feet. The stallion held his right forefoot of the ground, eyes clouded with pain. Aragorn got up. The Ranger was unhurt, except for a few bruises, as Legolas had taken the full weight of Roheryn's fall.

"Legolas!" he cried, and then, "Oh _shit_!" For the elf's right leg was twisted and bent, and there was blood spreading rapidly over the shin of the thick leggings he was wearing. His eyes were closed.

"It's broken, isn't it?" asked Árë. Aragorn nodded, still swearing to himself. Things just couldn't get any worse, unless…

"Árë! Legolas' medicine! Check that Roheryn didn't burst the waterskins!" Árë quickly checked, and informed Aragorn that everything was fine.

"Legolas took the full weight of his fall," she added grimly.

"At least the medical supplies are fine, because I will be needing them, that is for sure." Aragorn knelt and gently placed a hand on Legolas' leg. Instantly, the elf's eyes snapped open and he uncharacteristically screamed and then clutched his chest and curled up, whimpering.

"Get…off!" he pleaded with Aragorn, "You're…hurting…me!" The Ranger took his hand away, and after that, Legolas refused to let anyone touch him, crying out in agony even if Aragorn or Árë tried to touch so much as his good arm.

"Legolas!" Aragorn cried desperately, "The pain will only get worse if I don't help you!"

"No!...Can't!" the elf's breath was coming in short, pained gasps.

"Legolas, you have to!" pleaded Árë.

"You can't lie here in the snow with a broken leg!" Aragorn cried, panicking, "You'll freeze! And you're bleeding! Badly!" Legolas seemed eventually to see sense, and slowly uncurled himself, making soft, pained sounds. "That's it," said Aragorn encouragingly, "be calm, mellon nin." Legolas nodded, and Aragorn ran his hand over the elf's leg, making him shiver and groan, squeezing his eyes shut. He fought the urge to pull his leg away. Árë took his hand.

oXo

Aragorn winced at the severity of the break. Things had just gotten a _whole_ lot worse. He stood up and took down the healers' bag from Roheryn's saddle, petting the horse.

"It's okay, boy. It's not your fault." Aragorn bandaged Legolas' leg tightly over his leggings to stop the bleeding, and found two long sticks, which he used as splints, one on either side of the elf's leg. "Now we can move him," he said.

"We need to find somewhere to sleep," said Árë.

"Aye, Legolas cannot go any further," the Ranger agreed, "and I fear we have only one horse between us now. Roheryn seems to have injured himself."

"I will walk. You must ride with Legolas."

"Aye," Aragorn agreed reluctantly, "Nienor will take us." Hearing her name, the little palomino mare stepped forward and knelt beside Legolas. Aragorn was astonished, but he gently lifted the elf onto her back. He cried out in pain, and Aragorn quickly mounted behind him, supporting him. Árë opened the healers' bag and took out some painkilling herbs, which she handed to Legolas, who accepted them gratefully. Then she hooked the bag onto Nienor and took hold of Roheryn's reins, and they went in search of shelter.

oXo

**Poor Legolas :( More soon. Rabid Angel: Angst guaranteed!**


	24. OW!

**Err, hi people… - peeps out from computer and dodges sharp object- Before you read the chapter, please read this! You will sympathise with me! All right, first, I was totally snowed under with schoolwork and projects, then it was exams (now it's holidays, yay!), then I had an operation on my foot on break up day (to remove this lump from the ball of my foot. Nothing serious, but it hurt), which was the 30th June and I got sick from the anaesthetic, now I have come down with this horrible cold/flu! Yesterday I had a temperature of 39. (Celsius. Not Fahrenheit! That would be frostbite!) So, yeah, I've had it rough, and I'm still having it rough, so please don't kill me. I would never EVER abandon a story! That is punishable by death! **

Chapter Twenty Four

It wasn't long before they found a cave, warm and dry and big enough even for the horses. Árë checked to make sure that it was empty, and they entered. Aragorn stayed with Legolas while Árë pitched camp, setting Legolas's bedroll extra thick when she laid it out against the corner of the cave. She carefully took the elf from Aragorn so that the Ranger could dismount and carried him to the bedroll, gently laying him down and covering him warmly with blankets. Legolas had his eyes squeezed shut and he was trying to control his ragged breathing.

oXo

Aragorn jumped off Nienor, grabbed the healers' bag, and was instantly at Legolas's side. Árë stood and went to see to the horses, who were whickering anxiously. First, Aragorn checked Legolas's shoulder, and was amazed to find that the stitches hadn't ripped out. Then he folded up the blankets to expose the his leg, making the elf open his eyes, wincing.

"You may want to sit up for this," the Ranger advised him, "I'm afraid it's going to hurt." Legolas didn't say anything, and Aragorn helped him to sit up and lean weakly against the cave wall. The Ranger thoughtfully removed his cloak and placed it behind the elf so that he would not be uncomfortable against the rock, for though it was smooth, it was still hard. He began to undo the bandages and splints, causing Legolas to gasp and pull his good leg up and stiffen. When the Ranger finished, he slit the leg of the elf's leggings and pulled it up, sucking in his breath through clenched teeth. The elf's leg was bent and soaked in blood, for there was a jagged rip down his shin through which a good two inches of broken bone protruded. Legolas took one look down, muttered,

"Ai!" and shut his eyes tightly.

oXo

Aragorn rummaged in the healers' bag and found a cloth, which he used to wipe away the blood from the elf's leg so that he could see what he was doing, but more just streamed from the wound. This wasn't going to help, and Legolas was loosing copious amounts of blood.

"Right, Legolas, keep dead still," the Ranger warned, "I would be lying if I said this wouldn't be painful, but if you make any sudden moves, you could further injure yourself. Keep still, all right?" Legolas nodded, swallowing nervously, and Aragorn quickly pinched the edges of the wound shut against the bone in an attempt to control the bleeding. The effect was electric – Legolas yelped and jerked violently, reflexively trying to pull his leg away, but Aragorn was holding it down firmly, and so it stayed where it was. Legolas cracked his head upon the cave wall and flopped onto his back, unconscious. Árë came running, and paled when she saw the elf's leg – "Wha- what happened? Why's he!" Aragorn sighed, still holding the wound shut, though the bleeding was much worse now due to Legolas's sudden movement.

"The pain level was too much for him to bear – he jerked away from me and hit his head on the rock. He's unconscious. Have you finished with the horses?" Árë nodded.

"Yes. Roheryn's leg is quite swollen – it looks like he will be lame for some time."

"Put some athelas on it."

"All right." Árë dug around in the pack, found what she wanted, and disappeared.

oXo

Aragorn heard a soft clip-clopping sound, and felt a warm, velvety muzzle on his neck. Nienor passed him and settled herself beside Legolas. The elf was her master now, she had decided, and she would stick with him through thick and thin. She sighed softly and snuggled close, lending her body heat. Aragorn was touched. He waited about ten minutes for the bloodflow to slow significantly and then removed his fingers from Legolas's leg. Now for the hard part – he had to get the bone back in and realign the two pieces. The Ranger checked to make sure that Legolas wasn't close to waking and then he began to ease the shard of protruding bone back into the elf's leg. Even though Legolas was unconscious, he still whimpered in pain. Árë returned and knelt beside the elf, monitoring his pulse with one hand and stroking Nienor's muzzle with the other. The little mare licked her hand, and she smiled slightly.

oXo

Aragorn successfully got the bone back into the elf's leg – now he had to realign the bones. Easier said than done.

"Árë, how's his pulse?"

"Getting stronger." Aragorn swore under his breath. If Legolas were to wake now, it would _not_ be a good thing! Well, he would just have to take a chance on it. Taking a deep breath and praying that Legolas would not suddenly come around, the Ranger slipped his fingers into the gash, just as the elf's eyes fluttered open. Legolas barely had time to scream in sheer agony before the pain swallowed him up again and he was lost to unconsciousness. Nienor neighed in distress and nuzzled him gently. Aragorn sighed and went back to work.

oXo

It was a long, pain-staking business, and when he was finished, the wound bled profusely. Aragorn made certain that the bones were correctly aligned and then he removed his blood-soaked fingers from the elf's leg. The Ranger grabbed the cloth and pressed it firmly over the wound with one hand, supporting the elf's leg with the other. It took much longer for the bleeding to stop this time, and when it finally had, and Aragorn was beginning to wonder if he had perhaps severed an artery, Legolas had lost a lot of blood and his face was deathly pale. Aragorn quickly stitched and bandaged the wound, making the bandages tight, starting at the elf's ankle and ending just below the knee. Then he petted Nienor and went outside to find two good smooth sticks to serve as splints – the other ones had been rough and scratchy, as the Ranger had been in a hurry. It took Aragorn some time to find what he wanted in the cold and dark, but eventually he hurried into the cave with the sticks, hands numb with cold, for he had spent some time cleaning the blood from them in the snow. Nienor still lay beside Legolas, and Árë still monitored the young elf's pulse. She looked up as the Ranger entered.

"He is starting to wake." Aragorn nodded. He'd rather Legolas stayed out until the splinting was finished, but it couldn't be helped. At least the worst was over. The leg had to be splinted now though, or it could heal improperly. Aragorn blew into his stinging hands in an attempt to warm them.

"Árë?" he asked, "Could you make a fire? It's freezing in here, and if I'm cold then Legolas must be…" Árë nodded and jumped up.

oXo

Aragorn knelt beside Legolas and checked his pulse to confirm what Árë had said. It was beating fast, suggesting that he would come round any moment, if he was not already awake.

"Aragorn…?" said Legolas groggily. He spoke without opening his eyes.

"Legolas!" Aragorn whispered, mindful that the elf probably had a horrible headache. "You all right?"

"Fine."

"Oh." Aragorn left it at that. "Well, I need to splint your leg, so you need to keep still. The bones are back in place and the wound is stitched, but you could undo all of that if you jerk, right?" Legolas nodded.

"Mae." He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tighter.

"Focus on your breathing," Aragorn told him, "It will give you something else to think about. Try to keep it slow and steady, and breathe as deeply as you can without hurting yourself." Legolas nodded. "May I start?" Another nod. The elf was clearly not eager to speak. Aragorn wasted no time. He made sure that the sticks were the right size, measuring from Legolas's ankle to his knee, and then the Ranger strapped them securely in place. "Done," the Ranger announced, packing up the remainder of the bandages. Legolas sighed in relief. Aragorn picked up the bloodied cloth and threw it in the fire – it was of no use anymore and they had plenty to spare.

"Is he all right?" Árë asked, warming her hands, "I'm sorry, I have qualms about blood, else I would have sat with him." Aragorn was surprised.

"That's news to me. The way you fight, no one would ever know."

"No," the she-elf admitted with a slight smile. "Is Legolas all right?" she asked again.

"Well, he's in a lot of pain, and I'm going to check him for concussion – he hit his head on the cave wall hard enough to cause him to black out. You can come now," he added, trying to tease, "there's no more blood." His voice came out hollow and monotonous. Árë gave him a faint smile and got up from her position beside the fire. They both went quietly to Legolas, whose face was tight with pain.

"Would you like something for the pain?" Aragorn asked him. The other herb seemed to have worn off. Legolas nodded quickly and winced as the movement jarred his already aching head. "I need you to open your eyes first," Aragorn said. Legolas tried, but his eyelids seemed to be made of lead. At last though, he made them open, and he blinked sleepily. Now though, he was faced with a new dilemma – his sight was blurred and he saw doubles of everything. The elf passed a hand across his eyes but still the distressing symptoms remained, and so he shut his eyes again, groaning. "I'm sorry, I need you to keep them open so that I can check you for concussion," he heard Aragorn's voice saying, faint and echoing, and so he forced his eyes open again, but when he saw multiple Aragorns, Árës and Nienors gazing down at him again, he suddenly felt nauseated and had to throw up. Fortunately he missed himself and the blankets. The elf curled up, groaning.

oXo

Árë mopped up while Aragorn went outside to collect some snow to melt down. When the Ranger returned he quickly put a small pot over the fire and soon had a steaming mug full of some herbal concoction. He crouched beside Legolas.

"Drink this before you take anything else – it will help your nausea." The elf nodded, swallowing and looking horribly pale. He was shivering too, though it was no longer cold in the cave thanks to Árë's fire. Probably from a combination of pain and weakness. Aragorn helped him to drink, but at the first sip his stomach did a somersault and he thought he wasn't going to manage.

"Deep breath. Keep drinking," Aragorn encouraged. Legolas took a shaky breath and somehow managed to finish the medicine. Very soon, he felt a lot better, and Aragorn gave him the pain relief herbs, after which one by one they went to sleep. Aragorn slept beside Legolas so that he would be woken should the elf need him, and Árë dragged her bedroll to the cave mouth to guard it, as she had the most resistance to the cold. Nienor stayed by Legolas, drifting in and out of sleep, and Roheryn found a cosy corner where he would not be disturbed. Soon, the sound of gentle breathing filled the cave, and all was quiet and still.

TBC – REALLY! ;P

**LOTS of angst next chapter! Ha! And it will be coming soon! Updates are back on schedule!**


	25. Sad Leggy

Chapter Twenty Five

_Legolas stood on the beach, gazing out to sea. Yes, he stood! On his own two feet! Examining himself, the elf found that he had not a trace of sickness or injury left in his body. He was healthy, or maybe he was dead, but what did it matter? He had never felt so good before, or maybe he had just forgotten what it felt like to feel good. The sea was beautiful – rough and wild with a thick fog rolling off it that smelled of pure life, refreshing and rejuvenating. The sea breeze blew Legolas's hair back and left behind crystalline droplets of mist that rolled down his face and made him shiver with excitement. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the pure sea air, half expecting to feel pain, but of course, none came. All space and time seemed to stop just for him as he stood on the beach just breathing…Before, it had been so hard; now, it was the easiest thing in the world. Legolas's eyes suddenly snapped open. Was that a whinny he had just heard? Yes, there it was again, faint and echoing, but he knew that whinny almost as well as he knew his own voice, or his father's. But how? It couldn't be! The elf watched in wonderment and growing joy as one of the foaming wave heads slowly took shape and became the graceful head of a horse, but not just any horse. Nimros slowly took shape and rose up out of the sea, emerging like a spectre from its grave, and then he slowly began to wade gracefully ashore. His coat shone silver, his long mane and tail billowed out and were whipped about by the breeze…or maybe it wasn't the breeze, and his muscles rippled under his skin, yet he looked ghostly, and on his throat, where the arrow had pierced him, was a softly glowing scar. But most extraordinary of all was the long silver horn that sprouted from his forehead. He whickered softly in greeting, and as he reached shore, Legolas realized that he was crying as he watched his horse. Nimros was different, but his eyes were still the same; they still glowed with that deep unconditional love, ever since the day that Legolas had found him, a small colt lost in the depths of Mirkwood. No-one knew where he had came from, and Legolas had taken the little colt in and with the help of the Palace healers and a willing brood-mare, he had raised him into a mighty stallion, wild and fiercely beautiful. They had been inseparable, and even now, in death, Nimros had come back so that they could be together once more._

_oXo_

_Legolas extended his hand as Nimros came closer, but the great silver stallion suddenly stopped, a sad, haunted in his eyes, as if he should not be here, couldn't be here. All of a sudden he looked so fragile, as if the breeze might just blow him away, and as Legolas looked at him harder, the elf gave a gasp of horror, for the horse was rapidly fading into the mist._

"_Nimros! No!" Legolas ran towards his horse and threw his arms around the silver stallion's neck before it was too late, but the moment he touched him, Nimros melted into nothing but mist; it was if he had never been. Legolas set off in a dead sprint in the direction it seemed the horse had gone, but there were not even hoofprints in the wet sand. "Take me with you! Nimros!" But it was no use, and Legolas was forced to give up, doubled over and gasping for breath. Nimros was gone, and he was left standing on the deserted shore, utterly heartbroken, calling his friend's name over and over again between sobs and shivering from the sudden cold._

oXo

Aragorn was woken some time in the night by soft sounds. The fire had burnt down to glowing embers, so it must be late. Instantly awake, the Ranger turned to Legolas. Nienor was asleep beside him, but the elf was awake. It was he who had woken Aragorn, and the Ranger felt a stab of pity as he realized that the sounds were muffled sobs. Legolas had pulled the blankets up over his head so he would not be heard. Aragorn quietly eased himself up onto one elbow and gently folded the elf's blankets back.

"Legolas?" The elf jumped. He was curled up and had been awkwardly stroking his horse hair bracelet with his bad hand. Miraculously the little circlet of hair was still on. He didn't answer the Ranger, only sniffed softly.

"What's wrong, mellon nin? Are you all right?" Legolas gave a shaky sob.

"I have to go outside – now!" Something about his voice told Aragorn the elf wanted something other than to go to the bathroom.

"What is it?"

"I just have to go outside!" He had to see if Nimros was out there. That dream had been so real.

"It's craziness, Legolas, unless you really have to, and I don't mean wild fancies. You'll freeze! What's wrong? Here – let me help you sit up." Aragorn helped his friend into and upright position and let the elf lean against him. "Tell me what troubles you," he prompted, "Is it pain? Grief? Both?" Legolas nodded, and then he suddenly went limp against Aragorn's breast and dissolved into quiet sobs.

"It was a dream…" he sniffed, "Nimros was there… We were together, almost… When I tried to touch him, he was gone. Gone in the mist…" What Legolas managed to gasp out between sobs didn't altogether make sense to Aragorn, but the Ranger didn't press it. He was here for support.

"So that's why you wanted to go outside?" he asked quietly. Legolas nodded quietly.

"To see if…To see if maybe he was out there."

"It was just a dream, Legolas. Sometimes dreams can seem very real."

"I know." They sat in silence for a few moments. "Aragorn?"

"Legolas?"

"I wish I was dead."

"Why do you wish that?"

"I just can't go on anymore. In my dream, I called for Nimros to take me with him, but he wouldn't, he wouldn't Aragorn!" Legolas sobbed, "Why?"

"I don't think your time has come, Legolas. You still have a purpose to fulfil in life. I do, too." Legolas was surprised at that.

"You feel it too then?"

"Aye."

"No more dying then?"

"No."

"Feel better now?"

"No, I feel horrible," Legolas sniffed, "Physically. I know I'm being weak, but ---"

"No you're not," Aragorn interrupted, putting a comforting arm around the elf. "Everyone needs to have a good cry every now and then and get their feelings out. It works wonders. Not many could go through what you've gone through and live."

"I'm not out of the woods yet, and anyway, my father could, the twins could, Elenath could… They're strong!"

"Indeed they are. I hope you're not trying to imply that you are not? Because believe me, it takes strength to get this far. Physical and mental, both of which you have. You may be lacking somewhat in physical strength of late, but you can still have the willpower to go on. Just don't lose that."

"You always think I'm coping incredibly well and all that, but you don't know how much I'm hiding from you, Estel!"

"Well why don't you get it out? I'm a good listener."

"You'd tell Árë. Not that I haven't already poured my heart out to you."

"You wouldn't want that?" Aragorn was surprised at the elf's first comment.

"Uh uh… I'd feel stupid if she were to know. I don't mind telling you – it's different with you, somehow…" .:_You are a true friend. You accept me for who I am, and stand by me no matter what. Árë is two-faced. She has cheated on me before. She said it would never happen again, but she is going 'cold' again, as if she does not want to be with me. I can never have a heart-to-heart discussion with her. I never know who else is going to hear it. With Aragorn, if I ask him to keep it confidential, it will stay confidential. He is a true friend to me:. _

"Oh, all right."

"And Estel, what I just told you was strictly confidential, heniach nin?"

"That goes without saying. What did you want to tell me then?'

"Pain," Legolas whispered, "horrible pain…" He put his good arm around Aragorn's neck and squeezed the Ranger's shoulders. "Nimros."

"Oh," said Aragorn softly, "that kind of pain?" Legolas nodded.

"Physical pain too, like I said, and I feel sick."

"Nauseous?"

"Mmm."

"I'll get you something. Can it wait that long?"

"I think so."

"Okay." Aragorn gently leaned Legolas against the cave wall and got up. "I won't be long. Give me a shout if you need me." He gathered together the things he needed from his pack and padded up to the fire.

"Right." Legolas tried to smile weakly at the Ranger in an effort to cheer himself up somewhat, but gasped in pain as his leg cramped suddenly. He pulled his good leg up and hunched forward, chin on his knee, shivering slightly. Aragorn looked back to check on him, and suddenly felt shocked. The elf looked so fragile, both in mind and body – nothing like the resilient elven warrior he had come to know so well. No, the shadowy figure hunched in the corner of the cave was like nothing that Aragorn had ever seen before, and it scared him to see Legolas like this. The elf was a pale shadow of his former self, so weak and defenceless. It also evoked in him a powerful hate for the creatures that had done this to his friend.

oXo

Aragorn brought the steaming infusion over to Legolas. The elf took it in a rather shaky hand, so Aragorn helped him.

"Careful, it's hot." Legolas nodded and sipped it slowly. He was amazed at the relief it brought, and the elf also felt a wonderful feeling of warmth spreading over his body. He shivered noticeably. Aragorn misread this and fetched another blanket, pulling it round the elf's shoulders and tucking the other blankets round his knees. Legolas was glad of the added warmth though, for he was pretty sure that the tea would not keep him warm for long.

"Better?" Aragorn whispered, "I put something in there to combat pain as well." Legolas nodded.

"Hannon le, Estel. You are a good friend." Aragorn smiled and took the elf's wrist, reading his pulse to check the state of his concussion. It was close to normal, so the effects of the concussion would soon wear off. It had been a mild one thankfully. It was too dark to see the state of the elf's eyes. Legolas stifled a yawn, knowing how badly it would hurt if he gave in.

"Sleep," said Aragorn gently. Legolas shook his head.

"I can't."

"Why is that?" Legolas hesitated, not wishing to complain.

"My stomach hurts."

"How does it hurt?"

"As if someone's gone and tied a knot in it," Legolas groaned. Aragorn sighed sympathetically.

"That's tension, and I don't blame you. Why don't I rub your back for you? It will help."

"Hannon le, Estel." Aragorn got behind Legolas, removed the blankets, and began to rub the elf's back in slow, rhythmic circles, careful to stay well clear of his shoulder.

"Mmm…" Legolas gave a soft sigh, already beginning to feel sleepy. Aragorn kept rubbing, and he was rewarded when Legolas's head nodded and his eyes closed. The Ranger massaged for a while longer, just to make sure that the elf was in a deep sleep, and then he carefully laid him down on his right side, wedging a blanket under his bad leg and tucking him in warmly. The Ranger got up and despite the cold, went for a walk outside to clear his head. Legolas had said much, some of which worried him. Fancy wishing he was dead! Grief was like that though, and hopefully time would heal the scars of the past. When the Ranger came back in and got into his bed, the blankets were cold, but after he tossed and turned a bit in thought they soon warmed up and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, and the cave was quiet once more. Nienor sighed and curled herself tighter around Legolas, and in his sleep, the elf smiled.

TBC

**Well, that was angst, wasn't it? It was _different_ angst. In which no-one got hurt. –Looks at certain readers- Personally, I like it. ;)**


	26. The Relationship Gets Worse!

**:S I never got a chance to tell you guys before I went away… Oops. And now school's back, so I will only be getting a chance to update every two weeks, I think, but I will alternate Revenge of the Hobbits one weekend and Captive the next, so for those of you who are following both, you get an update every weekend! It's just too much typing to do! Some of these chapters are really long! **

Chapter Twenty Six

The next morning, Legolas was back to being 'fine', and tried his best to act cheerful, though it was obvious that he was in pain. He ate what he considered to be a generous portion of lembas for breakfast to prove this, even though he wasn't hungry, and took his medicine unaided. Once everyone was ready and camp was pitched, Aragorn wrapped Legolas up against the cold and together he and Árë got the elf up onto Nienor. Legolas put in some mild protesting to keep up his façade, but really he was glad of their help. They set off into the cold, Aragorn riding behind Legolas and Árë leading Roheryn. Fortunately it was only snowing lightly – Caradras could be a lot worse. Even so, Legolas began to shiver slightly, and Aragorn wrapped his arms around his friend, hoping to lend some body heat, and gave the elf frequent sips of a hot drink he had prepared, which contained herbs to combat pain and nausea. After a few sips, Legolas found himself feeling much warmer, but also quite sleepy from the combination of herbs.

oXo

"Are you all right?" Aragorn asked anxiously when the elf slumped forward. The Ranger tightened his grip, careful of Legolas's injuries.

"Mmm," the elf muttered, "Just…sleepy…" He raised a hand to rub his eyes. They were so heavy.

"Sleep then," Aragorn told him.

"Uhhh…" Legolas's eyes closed. The shuffling of Nienor's hooves in the snow was like a soothing lullaby, and he soon fell into a deep, healing sleep.

oXo

"Legolas?"

"Ugh?"

"I'm sorry to have to wake you," Aragorn apologised, "but I'm afraid it's time for your medicine."

"Oh, then it must be about…" Legolas tried to calculate the time, but his head felt too fuzzy from sleep.

"Midday," Aragorn informed him.

"Here," said Árë, passing up a cup. Legolas took it and drank down the contents quickly. When he was finished, he passed it back and asked with concern,

"Árë, meleth nin, are you not tired, walking in the snow – it is deep." He shivered.

"No," the she-elf lied. Legolas could tell that she wasn't telling him the truth.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Oh." The elves' eyes didn't meet and there was an awkward silence, Árë glaring at her boots as if she intended to bore a hole in them and Legolas staring at Nienor's withers. Aragorn cleared his throat.

"Uh, let's move. Every second counts." The Ranger could feel the tension in the air and wanted to end it.

"Yes, let's," Árë mumbled, and jerked on Roheryn's reins, startling the horse into movement. The she-elf's shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

oXo

Legolas worried all through the remainder of the day, and it did nothing to improve his pain. The same thoughts over and over again, repeating themselves and repeating themselves and repeating themselves. _.:Why didn't Árë tell me the truth? Why did she keep it from me, when we both knew the truth? Why did she keep it from me a second time:._ She was still being cool to him, no, make that icy, and it made him uneasy. _.:Árë is so moody sometimes. At times quick to forgive, other times unforgiving. Ai, I hope this is not one of those times. But I haven't done anything wrong:. _Legolas was miserable, but insisted to Aragorn that he was merely cold and in pain, but that neither were severe. The Ranger seemed not to believe him thought, for he just gave a sympathetic look, as if to say 'I understand, Legolas.'

_.:Ai:. _the elf thought wearily, _.:Now I am the one who is lying:._

oXo

**Sorry this one is so short – just how it turned out. Next one will be longer. It's about Thranduil and Elenath though. Not so exciting, I know, but we can't leave them out of it :S Heheh, Legolas and Árë's relationship just got WORSE! :)**


	27. Elenath and Thranduil Again! :S

**Oh bugger. Has it really been almost a month now? Buggerbuggerbugger. I am really busy, so you guys are just going to have to bear with me, savvy:Kicks Jack off computer: Hehe, you will have to bear with this too, since seeing POTC2 twice I have gone a little obsessed. Will is sososososososo hot. And Jack is too. But I luv Will lol. And Legolas of course. But that is besides the point. **

Chapter Twenty Seven

Elenath and Thranduil tracked their quarry day and night, hardly stopping to rest, and as Legolas lay awake in the cave on Caradras, the two elves arrived in Lothlórien. They had discovered the cave in which Legolas had been held, and had slain the few remaining orcs. Elenath had injured his ankle, as he had underestimated a rather large Uruk, and had played with it rather than killing it instantly with one of the many attacks he had been taught. It hurt horribly and seemed to be getting worse.

oXo

Both elves were in low spirits, as from the camps they had passed, they had concluded that Legolas was in poor health. Elenath had discovered something curious about a scrap of what looked like an improvised bandage caught on a twig, blowing forlornly in the wind. "This looks like something an orc would use!" he had exclaimed. "Well," Thranduil had said with a grim smile, "he was held prisoner by the creatures, and wounded too, by the looks of things. Perhaps they wanted him for some reason unknown to us, and did not want him to die of his wounds before they had a chance to carry out their evils." "But look at this!" Elenath had shown the Elvenking a yellowish substance on the cloth. "Unless I am very much mistaken, this is poison!" The blood had slowly drained from Thranduil's face, and Elenath had thoughtfully stowed the cloth in his saddlebag.

oXo

"Well," said Elenath, looking up at the great mallorn trees and petting Gildin, "this seems a good place to seek help. Perhaps they are still here?" The young elf tried to be optimistic.

"I hope so," Thranduil sighed. Bregedur whickered softly in agreement. Gwirith put her head down to nibble a fern, but as she was about to take a bite, there came a voice from the trees.

"Halt! Who goes there?" Gwirith whipped her head up and squealed, flattening her ears fearfully. "Do not be afraid," said Haldir, dropping lightly to the ground and soothing the horse, "for you are elves and kinsman here. What is your business in the fair woods of Lórien?"

"We seek my son, Prince Legolas," said Thranduil softly, recognising Haldir at once, "He would have entered these woods yesterday, accompanied by Árë, and a man who would have introduced himself as Aragorn son of Arathorn, or perhaps Estel…or Strider if he had been in one of his moods…Have you seen them!" Thranduil's voice rose as he got more excited. "Are they here? How do they fare?"

"Lord Thranduil!" exclaimed Haldir, bowing low as he recognised the Elvenking, "Forgive me, I did not know it was you, for both you and your companion look so weary! Wait… That must be… Elenath! How you have grown since last I saw you!"

"It is not important, Haldir. Have you seen my son!" Thranduil could hardly keep still.

"Aye," said the Lórien elf, "Actually, I can say I have…" He sighed and shuffled his feet slightly.

"Where is he? How is he? Is he still here?" Thranduil missed the unease in the other elf's voice.

"Unfortunately, they did not stay," Haldir began.

"And his health?" interrupted Thranduil.

"Well…" Haldir glanced up at the golden boughs above him.

"Tell me!" the Elvenking demanded, "Is he all right?"

"I wish I could say he was."

"What has happened?" said Thranduil wearily. He had to know, even if it was for the worst.

"Your son is gravely ill," Haldir informed him, "He suffers from a poisoned wound, amongst many other injuries." Thranduil and Elenath exchanged a horrified look. So Elenath had been right.

"Woe is this day!" Thranduil exclaimed, "And yet he has left?" Elenath had said nothing. He felt that it was not his place.

"Aye," Haldir told him, "the Ranger Aragorn is taking him to Rivendell for the antidote. Perhaps you would like to talk with the healer who treated him? He would be glad to tell you more."

"No," Thranduil began, "we must go ---" But Elenath interrupted him.

"We should. He may be of help."

"Oh, all right then," sighed the Elvenking, "You may take us to him." With a nod, Haldir took their horses' reins set off in the direction of Lanthir's flet.

oXo

They soon arrived at the base of the great tree, and leaving the horses to stand, the elves ascended the stairs, Elenath lagging and limping badly, his face twisted with pain. Lanthir was mixing herbs in a bowl, and he looked up as they entered, and dipped his head to Thranduil.

"I greet thee. I am Lanthir. I assume you are here on account of your son?"

"Aye, that is correct."

"We?" echoed Lanthir questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

"We!" came a triumphant voice from the top of the stairs, and Elenath emerged, white-faced, and leaning heavily against the railing, keeping his weight off his left foot. He set his jaw and limped determinedly over to join Thranduil, leaning on his friend's shoulder for support.

"We," agreed the Elvenking. "Haldir tells me that Legolas suffers from a poisoned wound." Lanthir nodded.

"It is true," he said gravely, "Snake venom, affecting the nervous system. His condition was not good when Aragorn brought him in, and I did not have the correct antidote to combat the poison." He proceeded to explain about the alternative. Thranduil and Elenath looked very dismayed, and Thranduil, temporarily forgetting that his friend currently relied on him for support, made a move towards the exit. "Thank you. Now we must go!" Elenath however, fell backwards with a yelp, suddenly finding his support gone. With lightning reflexes, Lanthir caught him. "I think I should see to his leg before you do? He will only hinder you if he has to be carried."

"Oh, it's nothing," Elenath protested, trying to wiggle free, but nearly losing his balance as he did so, "Just a sprain, that's all. It'll soon be healed. Nothing to worry about. Now we really must go…"

"No," said Thranduil thoughtfully, "Lanthir is right. You need medical attention. Seeing as we're here, you might as well get that ankle seen to. We don't want _two_ poorly elves on our hands."

"Two?" echoed Elenath, and then realised that the King was trying to be optimistic. "Oh, _two_!" He gave a lopsided grin and shrugged. "All right. Do what you must." He pulled up his pant leg and Lanthir quickly examined the ankle, finding it to be broken. After the healer had splinted it, they were ready to go.

"Would you like anything for the pain?" Lanthir asked, noticing how white Elenath had gone.

"Uh, no thanks."

"All right then," said Thranduil, helping the younger elf up. Elenath wrapped an arm around the Elvenking's shoulders.

"Now we really must go!"

"Wait," said Lanthir as they reached the top of the staircase. He held a small cloth bag. "Take these for your horses. They will give them much needed strength."

"Many thanks." Thranduil took it and hung it on his belt. "Farewell, until we meet again."

"Farewell."

oXo

They reached the foot of the tree, and Thranduil helped Elenath onto Gildin before mounting his own horse. With grim determination, they rode for Caradras Redhorn. They would return to Mirkwood one member less.

TBC

**Ohhh, who am I gonna kill/loose/vaporise etc? Don't worry, it's not Legolas. (Sorry, but I can't have you run out on me because you automatically think that he's going to snuff it) Urgent: To all Revenge of the Hobbits fans: This story is in danger of going on hold for the next six months, as I have no idea what to do for the next prank! Anyone who would like to help get this story up and running again, or who wants a good laugh, please go read it and give me ideas in your reviews! Please:S**

**So…until next update! **

**Windsong**


	28. Break Up Is Coming Lol!

**Hi, sorry this is a little late, but a have been a little busy. Grade eight – one word: projects! Lol. :S**

Chapter Twenty Eight

Aragorn and Árë stopped for the night among a tall circle of boulders. They had searched in vain for a cave. Fortunately, this place was somewhat sheltered, and there was a small rocky overhang under which Legolas could sleep to stay out of the snow. The Ranger and the she-elf would just have to endure the elements.

oXo

Aragorn halted Nienor in the centre of their new campsite. Árë unpacked Legolas's things, and together they lifted a half-asleep elf down from the saddle and carried him to his bed, covering him with blankets.

"How do you feel," Aragorn asked anxiously. Árë had cleared off sharpish for some reason, muttering lamely about tending the horses.

"Sore," Legolas admitted, "Tired, sick… Not too good actually." He attempted a weak grin.

"I'll get you something, and then you can sleep," Aragorn told him.

"Thanks," Legolas watched him go.

oXo

Aragorn returned with a cup of medicine and helped Legolas drink.

"That was the make-shift antidote as well," the Ranger informed the elf, but Legolas was no longer awake to hear him. Aragorn sighed and straightened the his friend's blankets, pulling them right up to his chin and tucking them well in. He gave the elf a last look before going to find Árë. He looked so peaceful.

oXo

The Ranger found the she-elf standing between Roheryn and Nienor, sobbing into the palomino's neck. He frowned and took a step back, unsure as to whether he should go to her or go back to Legolas. It was obvious that she wanted to be alone. Despite this, he decided on the former.

"Árë?" he called gently as he padded towards her, his feet shuffling in the snow. The she-elf spun around, automatically on the defence.

"Leave me alone, Aragorn!" she hissed, and turned her face away again.

"Árë." Aragorn put a gentle hand on her shoulder. She wrenched herself away.

"Don't touch me!" Aragorn took a step back in surprise.

"I came here to help."

"Well, I don't want any, thank you very much! Why don't you just go and sit with Legolas? Leave me alone!"

"Árë, please!" Aragorn protested, "You're being irrational!" Árë turned to face him. Her face was streaked with tears and her expression was hard. Aragorn continued doggedly, "Perhaps we could sit down and talk things over? Something is bothering you, and it helps to talk about it." Árë gave him an icy look.

"Right, I'll talk about it," she snarled, "This is all I have to say: you can tell Legolas it's over between us!" Aragorn raised his eyebrows.

"I think that you should tell him yourself," he said quietly, and with that said, he turned and set off in the direction of the stone circle, calling back over his shoulder, "Bring the horses in when you're ready."

oXo

Aragorn sat on his bedroll beside Legolas to eat supper. He finished and found a boulder behind which to relieve his threatening bladder. Upon returning, the thought occurred to him to check Legolas for fever before going to bed. The elf's shoulder really didn't look good and he was somehow going to have to change the dressing tomorrow. Placing his hand lightly on Legolas's forehead so as not to wake the elf, Aragorn discovered that his temperature was indeed slightly raised. The Ranger had not the heart to wake his friend for medication – he looked so calm and peaceful, and his face had lost the pained expression. Aragorn would just have to keep checking on him throughout the night to make sure that the fever did not get too high. He got into bed and was soon asleep.

oXo

The Ranger was woken shortly when Árë brought the horses in, ate quickly, and went to bed. The camp was quiet again, and Aragorn drifted off again. Some hours later, he was startled into wakefulness by distant howls. The ranger froze, but relaxed when he realized that they were merely wolves. Getting up, he soothed the frightened horses and stoked up the fire and in doing so, the Ranger accidentally stubbed his sore toe on a hidden boulder. He hopped around, muttering uncouth words through clenched teeth. Coming down onto both feet again, he noticed that he had apparently woken no-one. Maybe not Legolas, but surely Árë? She was a little too quiet, and her breathing too quick – he guessed she was feigning sleep. The Ranger shook his head and went to check on Legolas. The elf's fever had risen, though only slightly. Aragorn got back into bed and passed out until morning.

TBC

**PLEASE, I NEED IDEAS ON REVENGE OF THE HOBBITS! I know this chapter was a little short, but the next one _is _longer. I checked. Savvy. **


	29. Reunion

**Arrr me 'earties, I know I haven't updated this in a while, but a lot of things have got in me way of late: 1) POTC craze (duh. I have now seen it three times on the big screen and I don't know who I like more – Will or Jack! Aargh! Well I guess it all comes down to personal hygiene… Will wins:D But Jack is sososo gorgeous too. Well, he is Johnny Depp, what do you expect!) 2) Neopets. Yup. Okay, lame lame lame excuse, but typing gets really boo-ooring after a while! XD 3) Tech project – we had to create our own bags. Really awesome, but super time consuming too! 4) Bio project – can you imagine making your family write down EVERYTHING they do that uses water in one day, and then working out flow rates, drawing pie charts, posters etc. So STUPID! But that is life when you are fourteen years old in grade eight. Alas. :S Well, here it is, a bit of a longer one! And guess what, ROTH is being updated too:faint: **

Chapter Twenty Nine

Dawn broke bright and clear, and pleasantly warm; odd indeed for a winter on Caradras. _.:The weather favours us:. _thought Aragorn, getting up with a yawn. Árë was still 'asleep.' The Ranger rolled his eyes. Well, it was her problem if she wanted to miss out on a morning such as this. He had other matters to attend to.

oOo

The Ranger stoked up the fire and put some snow in a pot to melt over the flames, and then he retrieved his healer's bag and made his way over to where Legolas still slept. The Ranger was disappointed upon finding that the elf's temperature had risen dramatically. Beads of sweat trickled down the elf's face and his eyes rolled beneath closed lids. He was shivering hard. Aragorn sighed and then groaned. Why did things always have to go from bad to worse! He placed his hand on Legolas's good shoulder and called the elf's name softly until his eyes opened, albeit only halfway. He seemed not to see the Ranger, for he looked straight at his friend, but his eyes were focused on something distant, as if he were looking through the man. Then he closed his eyes once more and drifted off again. He felt horrible this morning.

oOo

"Legolas!" Aragorn eventually managed to wake the elf. Legolas opened his eyes and allowed Aragorn to sit him up.

"Uhhhnnn…?" he said groggily, blinking sleepily and rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning, Legolas. How are you feeling? Not too good, I'll wager - your temperature's up again."

"Oh…yeah…" Legolas didn't look at all well – he was shaky and pale again and looked as if he were about to be sick. "So that's why I'm feeling sick…" Aragorn nodded.

"Do you want anything?"

"No." Legolas shook his head. "Why'd you wake me?" he grumbled, "I was sleeping."

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, but I had to – your temperature has been climbing since last night, and I'm sure you'd prefer to be woken in the morning than in the middle of the night?"

"Aye, I suppose you're right. What is the cause? I'm not sick…" Legolas looked confused, his mind too foggy to see the obvious.

"No, it's your shoulder. It's infected, that's what's causing the fever. And a considerable amount of pain too, I'm sure."

"Uh, no," Legolas lied. The wound throbbed even now as they spoke.

"Well, regardless of whether it causes you pain, I need to do something about it soon, or you could loose that arm."

"What?" Legolas's voice came out in a small squeak.

"You could get blood poisoning, or the tissues could start to die…"

"All right, all right, Aragorn! I get the point! You don't need to say anymore! Do what you must." Legolas glanced nervously at his bandaged shoulder.

"Right, hold still then." Aragorn gently stripped Legolas of his tunic and shirt, quickly wrapping a blanket around him once he had finished. Exposing the elf's shoulder, the Ranger began to work on the bandages. Peeling them off, he winced. Legolas did too, for it was agony. Aragorn sighed. The wound looked bad, but to his relief it didn't show signs of gangrene. Now, he had to clean it… Easier said than done – it was going to be a horrible ordeal for Legolas.

"Go ahead." The elf seemed to sense the Ranger's misgivings. "I'll be fine." With a quick nod, Aragorn got up and fetched the water. He noticed that Árë had gone, and so had Nienor. The she-elf must have slipped away while he had been talking to Legolas. Aragorn was amazed that he had not heard her, but then again, she was an elf. Typical. She'd be back. Sitting down beside Legolas again, Aragorn opened the healers' bag and took out a clean cloth and some powdered herbs which he sprinkled into the steaming water. Once they had dissolved and the water had cooled off a little, Aragorn dipped the cloth into the infusion and then wrung it out. He showed it to Legolas.

"I'm going to put this on the wound. It is quite hot, and it may sting a little, but it will help. Tell me if the heat burns you, and I will make it cooler." Legolas nodded and Aragorn gently pressed the cloth over the wound. The elf hissed and flinched away as the cloth made contact with the injury – the herbs stung furiously.

"Too hot?" Aragorn asked, lifting the cloth.

"No…stings." Legolas winced as the wound throbbed angrily. Aragorn gave his friend a sympathetic look.

"I know; but the sooner it gets done the better. Better to get it over and done with."

"Aye." _.:How can something that hurts me so be good for me! Ai, the strange ways of healers:._ Legolas nodded slowly, closing his eyes and letting his chin drop forwards onto his chest, shivering and hugging the blanket close. He didn't feel well at all.

oOo

Aragorn did a thorough cleaning job and then put a fresh dressing over the wound, putting the old bandages on the fire and using a new one from the healing pack Lanthir had sent. He helped Legolas into his clothes, cleaned up, packed up, and then sat down next to the elf to await Árë's arrival. They couldn't leave until she got back. Aragorn hoped it would be soon, because if they made good time they should reach Rivendell in a day or two. Legolas raised his head groggily as the Ranger sat down beside him.

"How are you feeling?" Aragorn asked him.

"Fine," Legolas answered automatically.

"No, really, Legolas. The truth. How do you _really_ feel?" Legolas looked at Aragorn and gave a weak smile.

"Ugh…you don't even _want_ to know!" He closed his eyes again and slumped forward with a groan.

oOo

Aragorn felt the elf's forehead. No change in temperature. He sighed.

"You can lie down again now," he told the elf, easing him back into bed. Fetching more warm water, the Ranger placed a cloth on the elf's forehead and bent over him, every now and again replacing the cloth or checking to see if the fever had lessened.

oOo

Suddenly the Ranger turned, hearing a distant sound. It sounded like a whinny, but it wasn't Nienor. Lifting his head and pricking his ears, Roheryn answered it eagerly, joyfully even. It was a horse he knew. Heart thudding in his chest, Aragorn started towards the sound with slow, steady steps, as if in a dream. He knew what was happening, but it was almost too good to be true… Roheryn tugged hard on his rope and managed to loosen the knot. He pulled free and took off at a fast canter, racing past Aragorn, tossing his head and giving a shrill whinny of excitement as he went. Soon the horse disappeared down the snowy slope. Moments later, Aragorn heard excited shouts and more neighing, and four horses appeared over the rise of the slope. Three looked thoroughly worn, as did the two riders, for they had travelled day and night, snatching a few hours' sleep when they could no longer go on. But the fourth horse, Roheryn, led them proudly, head held high and tail up like a flag, limp gone and with a spring in his step that Aragorn had seldom seen him show. He was practically glowing with pride. _Look at me, _he was saying_, I found them!_ Elenath and Thranduil gave a cry of joy as they spotted Aragorn running towards them. They couldn't believe that they had finally caught up with him.

oOo

The two parties met, and Thranduil leapt off Bregedur and threw his arms around Aragorn. Elenath grinned. Aragorn wondered why he didn't dismount also, until he noticed that the elf held his one leg awkwardly in the stirrup, as if it was injured. Thranduil glanced about searchingly.

"Come," said Aragorn, reading the Elvenking's thoughts, "I will take you to him, but I am telling you now," he added gravely, "he is not well, so please do not be alarmed, and try to be calm around him." Elenath and Thranduil nodded. The Elvenking took Bregedur's reins and began to walk forward, but the big red chestnut suddenly stopped and began to cough violently.

"He is ill!" Aragorn exclaimed.

"Aye," Thranduil sighed, he took ill when we first came to the mountains. I think fatigue combined with the cold has compromised his immune system."

"Yet you kept pushing him on, in this state? Can you not see that he needs rest? At this rate, he will die! There! Look at him! Are you not ashamed?"

"Estel, it is not what I would have wanted. You know that he is dear to me, but the life of a mere horse cannot be compared to the life of my son. I will do anything to save Legolas, Estel. Bregedur is, after all, only a horse. For all I knew, Legolas could have been dead. I'm sorry, but I care more for my son!" The Elvenking's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Please, Estel, try to understand. Do not tell me you would not do the same for a friend in need?"

"Aye, I would walk across knives for my friends." Aragorn stroked Bregedur gently, and took the reins from Thranduil.

"There, you see?"

oOo

They entered the stone circle, and Aragorn knelt quietly beside Legolas.

"Shh," he cautioned. The elf was asleep. Thranduil helped Elenath to dismount and they too knelt around the elf, Thranduil quite unable to speak for joy. Elenath's azure eyes blazed with fury to see his best friend in a state like this.

oOo

Aragorn removed the cloth on Legolas's forehead and checked the state of his fever. It had gone down, but not by much. The Ranger's ministrations seemed to wake the elf, for he slowly opened his eyes, but blinked, confused by the sight before him. It was clearly a hallucination, for Bregedur, Gildin, Elenath and…his father were clustered around him!

"Legolas?" said Aragorn softly, "We have company."

"It's me, penneth!" Thranduil had tears coursing down his cheeks.

"And me!" Elenath was not going to be left out of this. Legolas looked from one to the other, unsure whether or not to believe his eyes. His vision was a little fuzzy… Aragorn sat him up, and it was only when Legolas's vision cleared and Thranduil reached out and gently touched his son's face that the young elf finally realized that this was indeed reality.

"Ada!" he croaked, and then he was crying too, and so was Elenath.

"Oh, penneth! You're safe!" Thranduil wanted to hug his son and never let go, but for now he had to content himself with patting his son's arm.

"I thought I'd never see you again! Honestly!" Elenath sniffed, and dried his eyes on his sleeve. "Don't you ever do that to me again, you understand!" Legolas grinned and then gave each an awkward hug.

"I'll do my best," he promised.

oOo

"What in Middle Earth! I don't believe it!" Árë had returned. Jumping down from Nienor's back, she ran to first Elenath and then Thranduil. If she hugged Elenath a little more tightly, he did not seem to notice. Legolas, however, did notice, and it made him feel bitter towards Árë. He didn't feel particularly jealous of Elenath, for he could tell by his friend's body language that the raven-haired elf felt no attraction towards her; as far as he was concerned, they were merely friends.

"Árë! You're alive! I – I don't believe it!"

"How?"

"Oh, it was all Legolas! He's the hero! I don't know how to thank him." Árë gave Legolas a gentle hug, but it was cold all the same.

oOo

Bregedur started to cough again, and Aragorn got up to attend to the three horses. They were a mess, especially Bregedur. The red stallion's once fiery spirit was broken, and he looked listless and dejected. Even if he lived, he would never be the same again. Gildin hung her head and poor Gwirith could barely stand for fatigue. Aragorn led them away and then quickly untacked all three, stacking Gwirith's baggage neatly in a little pile. The horses could go no further right now. Bregedur looked at Aragorn long and hard as the Ranger removed his bridle. Aragorn petted him.

"Better now?" Bregedur grunted softly in understanding and then dropped into a roll, spraying snow in all directions. Elenath laughed, but then looked grave upon seeing the large saddle sore on Gildin's back. _.:What have we done:._ he asked himself, _.:In our haste to find Legolas, we have nearly killed our horses:._ The young elf realized guiltily that they had not been checking their horses over like they usually did when riding out, and it had consequences, for he had overlooked the sore on Gildin's back. He remembered now, she had seemed a little tender when he had last saddled her, but they had been in such a hurry, and it had been too dark to see properly, so he had forgotten.

oOo

Elenath limped to where Aragorn was tending the mare, wincing as he put weight on his ankle. He took his horse's head in his hands, saying over and over again how sorry he was and promising that no matter what, it would never happen again. He seemed quite distressed. Aragorn smiled and patted the elf's arm.

"Worry not, Elenath, she will be just fine." Elenath nodded silently, fondling a section of Gildin's mane.

"Is there any way in which I may assist you?" he asked, straightening up as best he could, leaning against Gildin's shoulder for support.

"What you're doing now is great," Aragorn told him, applying a square of gauze over the wound. He patted Gildin and moved on to the other horses, examining each carefully, checking for illness and injury. Bregedur was the only one he was worried about, for the horse's chest sounded bad.

oOo

Once Legolas's temperature had lowered and the elf was feeling better, Aragorn decided that it would be best for all if they were to move on. Bregedur, Gwirith and Gildin had regain a little of their strength, and so Aragorn and Elenath tacked them up and distributed Gwirith's baggage evenly between all five of their horses. Elenath was adamant that they should leave behind the untouched wine. He couldn't think why he wanted to bring the stuff in the first place; it wasn't like he was a regular drinker… Only at parties, and even then he was careful and never had too much.

_.:I guess I thought we'd be having a good time:._ he thought to himself as Aragorn helped him onto Gwirith. Thranduil was to ride Roheryn, and Aragorn and Legolas were to ride Nienor. And Árë… Aragorn, helping Legolas onto Nienor, suddenly realised that he'd forgotten Árë. The she-elf seemed to read his thoughts, or perhaps the annoyed expression on his face, for with a suggestive shake of her long hair, she hopped nimbly up behind Elenath, who sat up very straight and shot her a nervous glance out of the corner of his eye. He focused his gaze on a section of Gwirith's grey mane.

oOo

"Elenath, you are sure you want to leave it?" Thranduil asked, holding the sack of wine.

"Yes, dammit," Elenath said, reddening. _.:Wine is for good times and parties; and this is certainly none of those, so leave the stuff! I thought we'd be going on an adventure… This is certainly an adventure, but not at all the type I had in mind! I remember when Legolas and I used to go "adventuring" when we were elflings…:. _He smiled at the memory.

"What is so funny?" asked Legolas, leaning over from his position in front of Aragorn.

"Oh, nothing." Elenath smiled again. "I was merely recalling the mischief you and I used to get up to as elflings. Raiding the kitchens, stealing the King's best horse…" He frowned. "One little elfling falling off and breaking his wrist. Climbing trees. And then the same elfling fell out and broke an arm! Sound familiar? "Adventures" were banned after that, but it didn't stop us." Legolas chuckled lightly.

"Oh, aye, and now I am even _more_ accident prone!" He grinned lopsidedly. Elenath grinned back. Things were going to get better from now on, he knew it!

TBC

**Well, that was chapter twenty nine! 0.0 Next is chapter thirty! Well, I have something to show you guys on my profile... (I can't make the links work on here, even if I use HTML form, sorry about that!) I took some pictures of my tech project and put them on photobucket for you all to see. All the horse people will love it lol. Please check it out and tell me what you think! ;) I would really appreciate it, as I spent HOURS working on it! (Got 96 percent too lol) Anyway, farewell for now!**


	30. Rivendell at Last

**:Waves madly at everyone: Konnichiwa**** minna-san! Guess who's back 8D It's been nearly a year since I last updated this, man XD that's crazy! Do you guys realize that I started writing this story when I was 13? I'm 15 now (and fuck have I changed), so that was like 2 years ago… o.O I actually wasn't going to ever update this, but people kept asking, so I thought I might as well finish typing it up, cause it was finished long ago lol. I Anyways, here ya go :P**

Chapter 30

The travelers soon found themselves leaving the desolate slopes of Caradras behind them, and each member of the group suddenly found his or her spirits lifted as they passed into a lush green valley. They were in familiar territory – in fact Rivendell was but a few hours ride away. Elenath and Aragorn exchanged a triumphant look, their eyes shining with joy. _We've made it!_ Árë too had been trying desperately to catch the eye of a certain raven haired elf, but whether or not he noticed was not evident. The she-elf huffed sulkily and blew a blonde strand out of her face. Elenath twisted around in the saddle, seeming to notice her for the first time.

"Some water, Árë?" he offered, holding out his canteen.

"N-no, I'm, I'm fine," she stammered, reddening. Elenath nodded and put the canteen away.

The shadows were lengthening, but Aragorn was determined to make it to Rivendell before the day was out. He nudged Roheryn into a trot.

"Come, let us make haste."

oOo

The Lord Elrond had just watched a stunning sunset over the gardens of Rivendell, and now that it was dusk, he turned to go inside. Halfway through the door though, he stopped, frowning, and stepped out onto the lawn again. He had heard a neigh? Had one of the horses gotten out? No, that was not right, he knew that voice – it was the voice of… unless his ears deceived him, it was the voice of his adopted son's horse! Then the elf-lord's eyes widened in surprise and joy as five horses materialized from the darkness, four bearing riders. Instantly recognizing them, the Lord of Rivendell ran towards them. Thranduil dismounted and embraced his friend. His legs felt like jelly after the long ride and he could barely stand, but he wasn't going to let on.

"What has brought you here at this hour?" Elrond asked, laughing.

"It is Legolas." Thranduil's voice was grave, and Elrond's smile vanished as Aragorn silently brought Roheryn forward.

"Suilad." Legolas grinned weakly. The Elf-Lord looked him up and down, trying to disguise his growing horror.

"You've been better," he said to Legolas. "Come," he said, turning to the rest of the group, "We shall go to the healing wing immediately; Aragorn will explain to me what happened on the way." Aragorn nodded and got down from the saddle, supporting Legolas with one hand, and he and Elrond carefully got the elf down from the saddle. Legolas stifled a yelp as he was jarred. Thranduil helped Elenath down, and Elrond ushered them group inside. Elrond carried Legolas and Thranduil carried Elenath despite the young warrior's protesting. As they hurried down one of the many passages, Aragorn opened his mouth to ask what was to be done about the horses, whom had been left outside in the garden, when he was knocked to the ground by two identical young elves.

"Estel!" Elladan crowed from his position on top of the Ranger, "How we have missed you, brother!"

"Where have you been?" Elrohir ruffled the human's hair.

"'Ro! 'Dan! Off," Aragorn said harshly, and then as the twins fell over themselves getting off of him, he added more gently, "I'm sorry, I'll answer all your questions in good time, but you were squashing the life out of me!" He grinned lamely. It was partly true, but Elladan's knee had been digging into his injured arm, and it had hurt. Elrohir gave the Ranger an odd look. It wasn't like him to behave like this. He helped his adopted brother up. There was a sudden yelp from Elladan as he suddenly recognized Legolas, and the enormity of what was going on sank in. His brother whirled around and gasped, and then they were both crowding around Thranduil, madly asking questions.

"Now is not the time!" Elrond had to raise his voice above their noise, "I have important business for you two."

"Yes, ada?" As one, they raised their eyebrows.

"I would like the two of you to attend to Estel's horses. They are outside and need to be stabled and fed – give them our finest, they are heroes after all."

"Consider it done." With a wave, the twins disappeared up the passage.

"Hannon le!" Elenath and Aragorn called after them simultaneously, and then looked at each other and chuckled. Both were relieved that their horses, their friends, were in good hands. Legolas said nothing, for he was trying to hold back the tears.

"Here we are!" Elrond turned into a large room. There was a quilted bed in one corner, and shelves filled with various books and potions lined the walls. The floors were richly carpeted, and a fire crackled merrily in the grate. Legolas was laid in the bed and covered warmly with blankets. He closed his eyes and abruptly fell asleep. When he awoke, Elrond stood beside him, holding a cup.

"Drink," he said, putting the cup Legolas's lips, "It is the antidote Estel has told me you need. He has told me everything; it is a horrible tale." Legolas raised his head and swallowed the contents of the cup. Bitter as usual, but maybe this time it would do the trick.

"Hannon le," he started to say, "Aragorn…" But his vision was clouding and he couldn't find the right words. Moments later he lapsed into unconsciousness.

"What did you just do to him?!" Elenath gasped. He was seated on a couch before the fire.

"No need to worry, young one," Elrond smiled, "I'm sorry, I had to add a little something extra to it, but it is the potion he needs to get well. You see, his ankle is so badly broken that we will have to cut into him to realign the bones. You may stay if you wish, but I don't advise it if you are at all squeamish."

"Thankfully not, I'll stay." Elenath looked down at his own ankle. Elrond, guessing his thoughts, smiled.

"Don't worry, what we're going to do here is only for extreme cases. I don't think you are an extreme case."

"Thank Vala."

"Anyone else want to go out before this commences?" Elrond looked around. No one volunteered. Árë bit her lip. She really would have liked to go out, but she felt it wouldn't be right - Legolas had saved her life and gone through a lot to do it… also, Elenath was staying. Thranduil took his son's limp hand.

"Let's go."

oOo


	31. On The Road To Recovery

**Woah, this is a record I think! Two updates in two days! O.o**

Chapter 31

Legolas opened his eyes and blinked slowly, trying to focus his world. He had really been out for a few hours, but as one has no concept of time while unconscious, to the elf it seemed only a matter of seconds. His body hurt all over, but the pain was centered in and around his ankle, which throbbed and stung. There was a face looking down at him. It took a few moments for Legolas to register, and then he recognized it to be that of the Lord Elrond's.

"What…happened?" he groaned, finding speech difficult. The Elf-Lord put his hand on the younger elf's forehead.

"You underwent minor surgery, go to sleep, penneth."

"Oh… all right." Not much made sense to Legolas at this point; he felt rather woozy from the drug, and so he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

The next time Legolas awoke, it was morning. Light streamed through the windows, bathing the room in a soft golden light. As he looked about him, he saw Elrond seated in a chair beside his bed, and Thranduil sprawled out on the couch. Both seemed to be deeply asleep, but Legolas soon discovered this was not so when he tried to sit up to investigate the cause of the intense pain in his ankle. Both elves sprang to their feet, Elrond pouncing on him and gently pushing him down again.

"Easy does it, penneth, you don't want to hurt yourself." Thranduil came to stand by the bed.

"He wakes!" the Elvenking cried, as his son glowered up at him, "Good morning Legolas, and how are we feeling this fine morn?" Legolas smiled, getting over the indignity of not being allowed to sit up.

"Considerably better." And he meant it too – despite his aching body and the pain in his ankle, there was something different today. Of course, he remembered now – the antidote. His grin widened, but he winced as his ankle gave a sharp twinge.

"Does it hurt?" Thranduil asked with concern.

"Nope." Legolas flashed the two elves a quick grin.

"Well, that's rather amazing," Elrond stated, "as we had to cut into you to realign the bones, and the pain relieving herbs you were given have worn off by now." Legolas's smile vanished.

"Cut into…me?" he looked up at Elrond, slightly pale. Now that he thought about it, he did have a vague recollection of someone saying something about minor surgery something or other last night. "Can I see?"

"Well, there isn't much too see, but you can take a look if you wish. Thranduil, give me a hand here, won't you." Elrond didn't especially need Thranduil's help, but he wanted to involve his friend as much as possible. The Elf-Lord pulled back the sheets and Legolas leant over to get a good look, fearing the worst. Someone had changed him into a white nightshirt, and his entire right leg was bandaged and immobilized with fresh white bandages, and there really wasn't much to be seen of his foot at all, save his heel and toes, let alone his ankle. Legolas couldn't hide his satisfaction – it was a job well done.

"So," he said brightly, "When do I get to get out of bed then?"

"Well, you're certainly back to your old self," Thranduil chuckled.

"And _you're_ changing the subject, ada. When do I get to get out of bed?" Legolas repeated his question, a little more impatiently this time.

"Well, it depends…" Elrond pulled the sheets up again, "probably a few days, maybe a week or so, then you can be carried outside for short periods, then when I am certain you are healing correctly, I will let you use a pair of crutches."

"No! No no no!" Legolas howled, and then doubled over as his body protested. "I won't!" he said weakly, "You can't make me." He felt stupid, like a stubborn elfling. They _could_ make him, and they were going to. But he wasn't going to go down peacefully… He had not braved sickness and injury, Orcs and a deadly mountain pass just to slowly die of boredom. Elrond made him take another remedy for pain, and then the two Elf-Lords left the room, just as Aragorn and the twins burst in. The human's arm was in a sling.

"Hey Estel! 'Dan! 'Ro!" Legolas called jubilantly, embracing each in turn with his good arm, "What a lovely day it is outside, only ada and Elrond are determined to have me stay inside and not see it." He scowled. Aragorn looked at him incredulously for a few moments, unable to believe what he was hearing, and then, unable to control himself, the Ranger burst out laughing. "What is so funny?" Legolas snapped.

"You!" Aragorn messed up the elf's hair, which make him scowl even more, "They would be mad to let you outside, you dolt! Only yesterday you had a raging fever and your shoulder was infected. Thankfully it's calmed down now," he said, putting a hand to the elf's forehead. Legolas pushed him away irritably.

"I want out, dammit." Aragorn rolled his eyes.

"You really _are_ stubborn."

"Where are Elenath and Árë?" Legolas asked, changing the subject.

"He and Árë have been in bed ever since they left you last night." Legolas's jaw dropped.

"That little – " he started, but Aragorn, realizing his mistake, stopped him.

"Stop, Legolas! It is nothing like that, I can assure you!"

"Oh," Legolas blushed crimson, "Not that I'd particularly care, except that I'd expect better from Elenath. Árë's a lying, cheating little seductress anyways."

"Legolas, please."

"Fine, but it's true." Legolas huffed.

"How are you feeling, penneth?" asked Thranduil, entering the room some time later. Legolas noticed instantly that he was distracted and worried.

"Bored, and I have to go to the bathroom." Sighing, Thranduil scooped Legolas up and carried him off.

"Would make things a lot easier if I had a crutch..." Legolas muttered, "My right arm and left leg are fine…"

"No, you remember what Elrond said." Thranduil's tone was tired and drawn. Leaning against him, Legolas picked up the strong scent of horses on his father's clothes. Something was definitely amiss, and it didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Once Legolas was safely back in bed, Thranduil turned to leave, but frowning, Legolas stopped him.

"Ada?"

"What is it, penneth?" The Elvenking seemed as if he were anxious to be somewhere, for his brow was furrowed and he bit his lip slightly.

"Something troubles you, ada, something regarding the horses." Thranduil gave a start.

"How did, how did you know?!"

"Heh… It is not so hard – look at your clothes." Thranduil examined the fresh clothes he had donned this morning, now covered in horse hair.

"Well done on the sleuthing there."

"So, what is wrong?"

"It is ill news, I am afraid," Thranduil sighed, shaking off his robes and scattering the horse hairs into the air. As they floated gently downwards, they caught the morning light. They were chestnut red. "It is Bregedur," he continued, "He is gravely ill. Pneumonia, we think. Estel says he has suspected it since we met up on Caradras – "

"Then why the hell didn't he do something about it!" Legolas burst out, his eyes filling up, "I won't lose Bregedur like I lost Nimros!"

"There was nothing he could do at the time; he didn't want to worry everyone further. Now I must go. We are doing everything in our power to help him, and he is strong, so there is hope that he may pull through." Thranduil went quickly through the door. "I will check on you again soon." Legolas nodded, though his mind was on horses.

oOo


	32. Death of a Friend

**Another day, another update. What am I freaking DOING?! Maybe it's cause I type fast now:shrugs: I dunno lol. Either that or it's cause I have no social life and I live in a hole (bit of both, I think) But whichever it is, it's great for you guys, right XD YOU SHOULD GO LOOK AT THE LAST LINE OF CHAPTER 27 RIGHT BEFORE/AFTER YOU READ THIS!!!!**

Chapter 32

"Hey." Some time later, Elenath stumbled through the door on a pair of wooden crutches. Propping himself up, he folded his arms, staring pensively at the wall.

"Hi." Legolas managed a smile, trying to banish his worries.

"Oh…" Elenath blinked a few times, as if coming around from a daze, "How are you doing?" he asked monotonously. Legolas guessed his friend knew the sad news too.

"Better."

"That's good." Elenath went back to staring at the wall.

oOo

Over the next few hours, Legolas was thoroughly bored, and tried to amuse himself by driving everyone else to the point of insanity with fake aches and pains, requests for food and drink, as well as pranks (one had involved the Lord Elrond crawling under the bed after a family of cave bats) When he eventually fell asleep with a book across his chest, everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Rivendell took on a more peaceful atmosphere.

oOo

Legolas woke that evening to find Árë seated on the edge of his bed, hands in her lap, playing nervously with the fabric of her dress. He gave her a black look. She ignored it, and gave him a tense smile.

"I'd like to talk with you."

"Well I don't much want to talk with you," Legolas snarled, "I know what you want to say to me anyway – that you don't want me anymore, but that's just fine; you can get the hell away from me because you're just a devious little bitch and I don't need you!" He was shouting now, ignoring the pain in his chest.

"That's not true!" Tears sprung to Árë's eyes. "That's not true! You know it can't work between us – I do; we've fought on and off for a long time now. We're just too different. I like you very much as a person, I still want to be your friend – a close friend, but we're just not meant for each other." Legolas was silent. He knew that what she was saying was true. "I have given the matter some thought," Árë continued, "I will not be going directly home, instead I will be spending some time with a friend in Lórien. That way we will not have to see each other constantly at home."

"That is good. What news of Bregedur." Legolas changed the subject. Immediately, Árë's emerald eyes saddened.

"He is not well and his condition is worsening. Elenath is taking it very hard, he blames himself for not taking better care of the horse."

"He would. 'Nath is passionate about horses."

"I must go," said Árë, getting up, "My assistance is required in the stable." Legolas nodded, gazing longingly out the window.

oOo

When Thranduil next checked in on his son, his face was grave. Reading what was on his father's mind, Legolas took a deep breath.

"He's not going to make it, is he?" There was a pause, and then the Elvenking shook his head, biting his lip.

"Then I am going to say my farewells whilst there is still time." It was a statement.

"But, penneth – "

"_Now_, Ada." Legolas pushed back the covers, his blue eyes hard as he locked gazes with his father. "You cannot deny me this."

"No…" Thranduil sighed, "It would not be right. All right, but Elrond will not like it." He carefully lifted his son into his arms.

"Elrond never likes anything…" Legolas muttered darkly.

oOo

As Legolas laid eyes on his father's horse, his eyes filled up. His legs were slightly splayed with the effort of trying to stand, yet he fought the weakness and refused to lie down. His head hung between his forelegs, his ears drooped, and his coat which had once shone like fire was dull and lackluster. Elenath, Aragorn, Árë, and the twins were in and around the stable. Those who were not in the stable hurried over at the unexpected sight, and the others leaned over the door.

"_Legolas_?! What in Middle Earth?!" Legolas glared at them.

"Is it not obvious?"

"Oh, I'm sorry…" Aragorn opened the stable door and let them in. Bregedur didn't even acknowledge their presence, instead breaking into a harsh, barking cough.

"Let me down," Legolas said softly, "I can keep my weight off my leg and put my arm around your neck."

"But – " Thranduil hesitated.

"Please," Legolas whispered. He looked up at his father, eyes shining with unshed tears. He saw that the Elvenking's eyes threatened to spill over too. Thranduil gave his son a small, sad smile and gently lowered him into the soft straw.

oOo

Legolas gasped as his head spun with dizziness, and he lost his hold on his father and plunged forward. Thranduil cried out in alarm, and both he and Aragorn lunged forward to catch the elf, but they needn't have worried, for Legolas found himself leaning against Bregedur's warm shoulder. Other than jarring himself, he had not been hurt at all, and the pain soon subsided. Legolas shifted into a more comfortable position and hugged the horse with his good arm, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against the soft coat. As he breathed in the sweet, horsey scent, memories suddenly came flooding back to him. Memories of his childhood, hours of endless riding, cantering easily through secret forest trails known only to him. And memories of a great white horse with a mane and tail of feathery sea spray and a gracefully arched neck as he galloped like the wind. A horse whose spirit could not be broken, whose majesty was fiece and beautiful. And a gentle, understanding friend who had always been there, always, until that terrible day… Legolas buried his fist in Bregedur's mane as a tear soaked into the horse's coat. It was all too much. Carefully, Legolas edged his way around the horse until he stood at the animal's heaving chest. Leaning against his father now, Legolas bent and lifted Bregedur's head. Gazing into those dull, cloudy eyes, he searched for some sign of life, some will to live, but there was nothing. The horse stared back blankly. He had already accepted his fate. Legolas gently lowered the great head again, with the white star in the center. It was a dead weight, as Bregedur had not the strength to hold it up by himself. He wheezed and shut his eyes, shuddering violently, and Thranduil had the sense to pull his son out of the way moments before the red horse threw his head and collapsed, struggling convulsively. Aragorn quickly knelt on the horse's neck to prevent him from trying to get up and injuring others and himself. Once the horse was down death would come quickly.

"Get Legolas out of here," he said quietly to Thranduil.

"No!" Legolas choked out as he was carried out of the stable, "No! Take me back right now! I have a right! I practically raised the horse! I have a right to be with him! Take me back! Take me back! Take me back!" He screamed hysterically until he was hoarse, and then he sobbed. Lying in bed, he stared blankly at the ceiling. This couldn't be happening. It just wasn't fair. There had to be some miracle to save him. Legolas thought about it over and over again, and eventually managed to convince himself that there would be some miracle, and when he woke up the next morning, Bregedur would be alive and well. And so it came as a shock to him the next morning his father entered the room and told him the sad news of Bregedur's death.

oOo

**:D I'm so evil lol! I killed the horse AND played with Leggy's mind XD My friend would say I'm desensitized… true enough. I watch all the ****violent movies without even flinching (Blood Diamond, Zodiac, Pan's Labyrinth etc).**


	33. The Sad Truth

**Sorry you guys never got this yesterday – I was on the last paragraph, and then I had to save it quickly and close the document, as me and my bro went to see Harry Potter. (btw the new book is awesome so far) Anyways, only one more chapter to go after this one. You should hopefully get it later today.**

Chapter 33

There was a painful silence.

"No," said Legolas quietly to himself, shutting his eyes tightly. Bregedur was in perfect health. He would get his father to take him outside and the horse would be cantering up and down the length of the paddock, tail held up like a flag streaming in the wind, muscles rippling under his fiery coat…

"Legolas, I'm sorry."

"You're lying to me! He's not dead! You're lying!"

"But, penneth, you saw…"

"No, it's not true! Stop messing with my head! Get out, get out!" The protective world Legolas had created for himself was falling down, and he was determined not to let that happen.

"I don't understand!" Thranduil tried to reach out to his son, but Legolas, in his state, struck out blindly with his good arm.

"Get away from me! Liar!" Thranduil said nothing. Legolas had never hit him before.

"Would you like to see?" he asked presently. It was the only thing he could think of. Legolas nodded.

"Yes, yes I would!" He was going to see Bregedur, and the horse would be healthy.

"Alright then, but you will not like it." Something deep inside Legolas told him his father was right, but he pushed the nagging feeling away. Bregedur was alive! Bregedur was alive! Not dead! That was stupid, right? How could he be dead? Bregedur was alive!

"But I will not have you carry me."

"What?" Thranduil was gobsmacked. "But Legolas, that's – "

"I am going to visit Bregedur and I shall have a crutch." There was no arguing with him, Thranduil could see that.

"I shall go and fetch Elrond." Thranduil disappeared.

oOo

"What is this that Thranduil tells me?" Elrond asked as he entered the room, closely followed by Thranduil.

"I want to visit Bregedur, and I want a crutch. You will not carry me. It is most degrading." Legolas scowled. He was in a thoroughly foul mood now.

"Have you not told him?" Elrond shot Thranduil a curious look. The Elvenking nodded.

"Indeed I have. He is in denial and insists upon 'visiting' --- "

"Shut up, shut up both of you!" Legolas was starting to actually believe them now, and the prospect scared him. BREGEDUR WAS _NOT DEAD_!!!

"Easy, penneth." Elrond sighed and gave the young elf a sympathetic look. "Now, about the crutch. I will asses your condition, and then we will see if you are capable."

"Of course I am capable!" Legolas growled.

"You most likely are, but just let me go ahead anyway."

"Fine, fine!" Legolas cooperated and allowed Elrond to check him over.

oOo

Legolas was healing well, and it didn't take Elrond long to make up his mind on the crutch. He gave Legolas one of his rare smiles.

"Good to go." The Elf-Lord left the room and soon came back with a simple wooden crutch. Thranduil helped Legolas out of bed, and the young elf stood shakily against him, white faced and biting his lip with the pain, but determined not to show it. Elrond noticed, but decided to let Legolas have his way. Thranduil's mind was on other things.

"Ready, penneth?" Elrond asked, holding out the crutch to Legolas. Legolas grabbed it and gripped it tightly, his knuckles white with the effort. Elrond helped him to balance, and once he was accustomed to the feeling, the Elf-Lord helped him to take his first halting steps across the room. It would have been a lot easier if he'd been able to use two crutches.

"Well then, are you ready to go?" Silently, Legolas nodded.

oOo

As Legolas looked down at the once mighty horse lying still and stiff in the straw his whole fantasy shattered into a million tiny pieces. He turned away, unable to look. Bregedur was dead. It was true. Bregedur was really and truly dead. Slowly, Legolas dared to look again, swallowing past the huge lump in his throat. Bregedur looked nothing like he had looked in life. His coat was dark and matted with sweat, and his legs stuck out stiffly. His eyes were closed, a courtesy Aragorn had done him. Thranduil helped Legolas to sit down, and the elf tentatively reached out to touch the horse's neck. As soon as his fingers made contact with the icy flesh, Legolas withdrew his hand with a shudder. Regaining his confidence, Legolas laid his hand on the stallion's neck again, running his palm firmly over the length of it. He bent and pressed his forehead to the hard, cold flesh, letting the tears flow now, and his lips moved in a silent farewell.

oOo

One by one, all said their goodbyes, and then Gildin dragged the red stallion to the edge of a large trench that the Rivendell elves had been working on all morning. The silver mare seemed sad and insisted on nuzzling her friend's face before allowing herself to be harnessed. Finally, everyone watched sadly as four elves pushed the horse in, and then all who were able helped to bury him.

oOo

"You have not yet had breakfast," Thranduil commented to Legolas as they headed back inside, "You must be hungry."

"No," Legolas lied, but his stomach growled at the mention of food, betraying him. Thranduil tried his best to smile.

"You lie, penneth. Come on, let us go and have breakfast together, for I have not eaten either."

"Hopefully I will not upturn any tables." Legolas looked ruefully at his crutch. He was feeling slightly cheered, perhaps it was because he had admitted to himself that Bregedur was dead, and had said his farewells. It helped to let go of the pain.

"I'm sure you won't."

"Maybe there will be pancakes," Legolas said hopefully.

"I'm sure there will be, and if not, the cooks can make you some."

"That is good." Legolas nodded, satisfied.

"If not for my current health status, I would say 'race you', but alas." Legolas gave a light laugh.

"You'd win anyway, so what does it matter?" Thranduil smiled for real this time, "Now let us see about those pancakes, eh?"

oOo

**Well, this was actually meant to be the end, but it doesn't sound much like an end, does it :/ There is still an epilogue though, and that will wrap things up **


	34. Epilogue: Farewell

Epilogue

Many weeks later, Legolas stood alone in the Palace gardens. A thick fog had descended upon that part of Mirkwood, and everything looked eerie and spectral and the mist. The elf's hand rested upon one of two tombstones. Legolas fingered the lettering on the stone. _Nimros, valiant to the end._ Red roses were starting to twine about the graves, their blooms sparkling with dew. Red like blood, and sprinkled with silvery tears.

oOo

Legolas turned to go, and as he did, the mist swirled thickly, and he fancied he saw the form of a great horse in the mist, a horn spiralling from its forehead, mane and tail swirling softly about it. It turned its head and looked straight at him with those beautiful eyes that he knew so well. The circlet of hair around Legolas's wrist began to glow with a white light, hot against his skin. Nimros neighed once, a distant, echoing sound, and then he was gone, vanishing into the mist without a trace.

"Goodbye, my friend," Legolas whispered, tears falling silently down his cheeks, for something deep inside him knew that the great horse was not going to appear to him again. Nimros shouldn't have heard him, he was dead, but somehow, he did, and through his tears, Legolas smiled.

The End

**OMG OMG OMG OMG It's finished!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 8D 8D 8D –shot– –shot– –shot– Well, I hope everyone enjoyed it. I might not be writing anymore LOTR fics, tho you may see Naruto fics from me. Not sure tho. And I lost the rough copy for Revenge of The Hobbits, so I don't know what's happening there X/ -waves- Sayonara for now, and be sure to go to my profile for the illustration (it's a photomanip illustrating the epilogue). **


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